Love, I Know You Are the One
by Tarafina
Summary: [3-Parts] Oliver and Felicity make their public debut as a couple. It's both as difficult and as easy as he expected.
1. Part I

**Title**: Love, the kind that's not undone (Love, I know you are the one)  
**Sequel to**: I Can Feel Your Heartbeat (Running Through Me)  
**Category**: Arrow  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Ship**: Felicity/Oliver  
**Rating**: NC-17-Explicit  
**Word Count**: 7,967  
**Summary**: [3-Parts] Oliver and Felicity make their public debut as a couple. It's both as difficult and as easy as he expected.

**_Love, the kind that's not undone (Love, I know you are the one)  
_**-1/3-

_Love, they say it heals all wounds  
Love, removes the hurt in you  
Love, I know that this is true_

"This was a _terrible _idea."

Those were the words Oliver was greeted with when his girlfriend opened her apartment door, dressed to the nines for their first public date. Technically, it could even be seen as their first date overall, since he'd only convinced Felicity that they were something more than friends with benefits a week ago. Over the seven months they'd spent together, it had all been behind the scenes. In between Hood activity and keeping up appearances as a careless billionaire, they found time together in the foundry or her apartment, carefully hidden from the scandal-seeking eyes of society.

During that time, he'd fallen in love with her. Not just the woman who sat proudly as the eyes and ears of the city, hacking into top secret branches of the government or security surveillance cameras, but the woman who could spend whole weekends in her pajamas, trying to update him on the wonders of great television. Truth be told, it wasn't hard to fall in love with her. With how she pushed her glasses up the slope of her nose or matched her nail polish to whatever outfit she was wearing that day. With her bright lipstick that never smudged, no matter how many times she bit or licked her lips. And her rambling; a very important part of her personality that had made him smile and laugh genuinely, as he hadn't since before being marooned on an island of misery.

As much as it was easy, like every facet of Felicity's personality, falling for her had caught him off guard. He hadn't put a name to what they were doing because it was dangerous. Because adding feelings to an equation meant painting a target on her back, drawing attention to his weakness. But it didn't stop him from going to her, from finding his way in through her window after a long patrol, from spending days curled up on her couch, enjoying her excitement as he gave in and said he'd watch Doctor Who if she really wanted him to. Sleeping with her helped relieve his tension, but spending time with her helped him find peace.

There had been many times in his life when he questioned what his future held. He had tried his hand at relationships, both before and after the island, and they hadn't turned out well, for him or who he was seeing. Pre-island, he was a terrible boyfriend, too selfish to think of others and their needs. Post-island, he was too jaded, had too many secrets, and lived a life too dangerous for many people. He'd held tightly to the memory of Laurel, building her up in his head, using her as an anchor to get through the worst of his time on the island. And when he'd returned, he was reminded that she truly was one of a kind, but time and again it was as if life was telling him that the road that led to Laurel was not one he was meant to tread. Letting go of her had been hard, but it had been right. He would only bring her misery and he could never be his real self, his whole self, when he was with her.

He began to accept that his life would be a lonely one. And truthfully, he didn't imagine it would be long either. His only goal was to get through the book, to do as he had promised his father, anything after that was just bonus time. But as he went about systematically wiping names off the list, it was Dig's and Felicity's voices in his head, reminding him he could do more, do better, and it started to draw out a different future for him. Maybe the Hood was meant for more than just what that list read; maybe he could bring about more peace than he ever expected. If he had more than just that list to devote himself to, if he had more work to do, maybe he could eke out a real life for himself.

But it wouldn't be with Laurel.

It wasn't that it never occurred to him that Felicity was beautiful, or a woman, or that she was attracted to him, he'd just been too wrapped up in Laurel at the time. And later, it just made sense to keep her safely tucked in that neatly titled box of 'off limits.' They were friends, they worked together, and it wasn't something he wanted to ruin, as he had a habit of doing.

The night that all unraveled was still as clear in his mind as if it had just happened.

_Patrolling had been rough. Oliver was tired and happy to be on his way back to the foundry. Halfway there, however, his attention was caught by a car thief. He changed direction, thinking only to scare him off; putting the fear of God into some of these crooks was usually enough, especially if they were new to crime. But this one hadn't been as easy to stop and, as soon as Oliver's feet landed on the hood of the car, the attempted thief had attacked, using the crowbar in his hands to swipe at Oliver's legs, tripping him hard enough that he landed on his back, slightly surprised. They wrestled and, much as Oliver didn't like to admit it, the guy managed to get in a couple good hits, one that he knew would leave him with a black eye and another that split his lip open. He was quick, but Oliver was quicker, and stronger; he subdued the man and had Felicity send an alert to the police that wouldn't trace back to them. _

_When he got back to the foundry, he was angry and the adrenaline was hitting him hard. It was rare that anybody got the drop on him, especially some low-grade thug, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to fight. He paced the floor, his hands flexing, itching to hit something. It was late enough that there was hardly anybody else out on the streets, which meant finding somebody to take that frustration out on was slim. He could use the punching bag, sweat it out of himself, but it felt lacking. _

_"Hey, _Rocky_, why don't you let me take a look, maybe clean out those cuts?" Felicity suggested, moving toward him, her head cocked. Despite the teasing in her tone, he could see the worry in the furrow of her brows. She wasn't concerned with how angry he was, just that he was hurt. It was something that still surprised, even confused, him about her. Sometimes he found himself worrying that she was naïve, too trusting, but Felicity was smart, she was careful. For whatever reason, she saw something in him. Something that she thought was worth her time, her help, and for that he was grateful. _

_He shook his head, in part to her question but also to his thoughts. This was no time to be waxing poetic about the virtues of his IT girl, no matter how pretty she was, standing there, chewing her lower lip, eyeing the gash on his side that had cut clear through his vest. That hadn't been the car thief but a burglar armed with a knife. Oliver had left him with a broken wrist that meant he wouldn't be cutting anybody else open for a good, long time. _

_"Oliver, you need to clean up. If you leave it too long, it could get infected." She raised her chin then, her hands on her hips, and suddenly she wasn't worried so much as insistent. "You're not on the island anymore. If you have the opportunity to get help, you should accept it."_

_He sighed, his shoulders tightening. "If I needed help, I would. But I'm fine."_

_She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "I won't argue that…"_

_When he looked at her abruptly, she flushed, realizing he'd heard her. It wasn't the first time she'd let an innuendo slip, nor would it be the last; in fact, her brain to mouth filter around him was always defective._

_Pushing past her embarrassment, she told him, "I'm not going to stop pestering you until you at least let me put some antiseptic on that cut." _

_He looked down at his side; the sting had long faded and he was fairly sure he didn't need stitches. Having it cleaned up and patched would be the smart thing to do. It was for that reason only that he agreed, stripping off his hooded shirt before moving over to the table. Felicity went to work getting out the medical supplies, setting it up beside him before she tucked a stray curl behind her ear and focused on cleaning him up. He raised an arm behind his head to give her better access, his jaw clenched as he watched her. Her teeth were digging into her fuchsia pink bottom lip as she wiped at the dried blood around the cut before using the antiseptic on it, glancing at him briefly to make sure it hadn't hurt. The minor sting barely registered and he met her eyes as they peered up at him, a bright blue that darted away after a few seconds to grab a bandage and stick it over the cut, pressing down the edges carefully. _

_"Um, that should be fine." She fidgeted before raising her head to look at his mouth. "Did you want me to take care of that?" she wondered, reaching up to let her fingers touch his lips, feather-light. She paused before stuttering, "C-Clean it, I mean. I didn't… I wasn't trying to come on to you. Not—Not that I don't think you're worth coming on to. Because you are. I just… I didn't…"_

_Her eyes darted toward his hand as he reached up, finding the loose curl that had slipped out from behind her ear. He wrapped it around his finger as he watched her, a flush blooming on her neck and spreading beneath her blouse. He didn't think that was from embarrassment though, not if the way her eyes dilated and her breath left her in a rush was any indication. _

_She was standing between the spread of his legs, watching her blonde, wispy hair wind around his finger, still dressed in a glove. He moved it, tucking it behind her ear once more, before he let his hand slid down the slope of her neck, fingertips teasing the nape as his thumb grazed down over her collar bone. _

_She swallowed tightly, her hands coming down on top of his thighs, and raised her eyes to meet his, her lips parted. "Oliver…" she murmured._

_He leaned forward slowly, the tension between them doubling, and paused only when their lips were close enough to brush as he answered, "Felicity."_

_It was her who closed the distance, slanting her lips over his, hard and wanting. He met her lips with the same ferocity, his fingers sliding up to bury beneath the elastic of her ponytail, drawing her in closer, her body bowing into his. Her hands slid up his legs, fingers hooking in the waist of his pants, nails lightly scratching at his skin. Kissing her was fast and passionate and the adrenaline only made it better. It felt like the build-up of all the time they'd known each other had finally overflowed. _

_He reached down and yanked her flimsy blouse out from the confines of her pencil skirt so he could skim his hands up her back. He growled as his gloves hindered him. Pushing up off the table, he pressed against her, walking her backwards, never releasing her mouth, continuing to nibble her lips and stroke her tongue with his own. He turned them around so her back was against the table and pulled his gloves off, tossing them away, not caring where they landed. Finally, his bare hands were on her, sliding up the soft skin of her back as she arched for him, their hips pressed tight together as he ground himself against her, enjoying the way her breath hitched for him. _

_His mouth trailed away from hers, her panting breaths loud in his ears as he licked his way down her neck, leaving sucking bites as he went. He could smell her perfume on her neck, pinpoint the exact places she'd dabbed it, and wondered where else she'd put it. More than one woman he'd been with dabbed it between their cleavage and the image of Felicity doing the same had his fingers on the buttons of her blouse, undoing each swiftly. He wanted to press his face to her chest, nuzzle her breasts, tease her nipples through the fabric with his teeth. His skin warmed, desire making every muscle in his body tense with anticipation. _

_Impatient, he gave up after four buttons and tore her blouse open the rest of the way, sending the buttons flying, and grinned darkly as she let a moan slip at the action. He dragged the fabric down her shoulders, pausing to kiss the top of one before he trailed his mouth down to where the lace trim of her white bra curved over the tops of her breasts, a small, pale, pink bow sitting between them. He rasped one whiskered cheek against her skin, feeling her shudder beneath him. His fingers slid over the straps of her bra, following them down her shoulder blades until they came together at the clasp, but he didn't open it yet. His fingers flared out over her back, lightly stroking her skin. _

_He rested his chin between her breasts and looked up, waiting for her to meet his eyes. She tipped her chin down, her cheeks flushed, and watched him from heavy-lidded eyes. Reaching for him, she let her fingers skim through his hair, teasing his temples with light touches, before scrubbing them down behind his ears. He could feel her nails as she dragged them further down his neck, scratching encouragingly. _

_A muscle in his jaw jumped as he thought of her nails scraping down his back as he made her come. He wanted that. That sting against his skin as he watched her fall apart, taking every bit of pleasure he could give her. He unhooked her bra and nudged the cup of one away with his nose, licking his way over the soft skin of her breast until he found her nipple, tightening as soon as his tongue swirled around it, hardening between his lips. She let go of him only long enough to get her bra completely off and then her hands were on his shoulders, nails digging in. He reached for her neglected breast and kneaded it, the calluses of his palm feeling dramatically different against how soft her skin was. He marveled at it for a moment, letting his rough thumb rake over her nipple and his palm completely envelop her smooth breast. Everything about her seemed soft to his hard; her body, her personality, her outlook on life, even knowing what kind of corruption was out there. Sweet, soft, sensitive Felicity. _

_He brought his mouth to hers, wanting to drink up her optimism, her hope, her innocence. He pulled the elastic from her hair, letting all her curls fall over his hands and down her back. He could smell her shampoo, something floral, and he thought about what it would be like to lay her on a real bed, to wake up next to her, her hair spread out over his pillow, the smell of him all over her skin. He kissed her hard, feeling dark and brutal, trying to remind himself that those things weren't possible. That she was everything he was not and could never be. _

_His hands slid down her body, memorizing her curves and the way she jumped as his fingers skimmed her ribs, ticklish. He squeezed her hips, kneaded his fingers into the swell of her ass, and reached down for the end of her skirt. He didn't bother unbuttoning or unzipping it. He dragged it up her body, bunching it at her waist, and slid his knuckles up the inside of her shaking thighs. He gripped the backs and lifted her, placing her on the table, in the exact spot he'd been before this all started. He spread her knees apart and stood between them, his fingertips dancing over her supple thighs, sliding up inch by inch. _

_Her hands fell flat against his chest but never pushed him away; they were just warm and still, anchoring her to him in a way that was somehow different. And then her finger tapped, once, twice, three times, on and on, and he realized she was doing it in time with his heartbeat, which seemed louder and faster than it had been in a long time. It was intimate in a way that having his fingers teasing the edges of her underwear wasn't. Another reminder that they were different; she was soft and he was hard. He wanted her softness. In that moment, he wanted her everything. _

_His fingers ghosted over the folds of her sex; she was wet, but he wanted her wetter. He bent to his knees and her hands stopped touching his chest, stopped following his heart, instead sliding up over his shoulders, behind his neck, and into his hair. He tugged her white underwear down her legs and dropped them to the floor before he pulled her to the edge of the table, her knees spread, legs over his shoulders. When he pressed a kiss to her clit, her nails dug into his neck and her head fell back, a strangled cry leaving her throat. He liked that sound, he liked how she tasted, and he wanted more. He wanted all of it. _

_His hands wrapped around her thighs, keeping them spread wide as he buried his mouth against her, sucking and licking every inch of her slit, nibbling her soft flesh, teasing his tongue around her opening, feeling her shake and shudder. She was mumbling his name, getting louder and louder, until he focused on her clit with his teeth and his tongue, pushing her over the edge. She came hard, enough that had the club upstairs been busy, even they would have heard her over the pumping bass of the music. His tongue kept up a light pace against her as she rode the wave of her orgasm, only stopping when her hand pressed down on his shoulder. _

_He lightly suckled a kiss on the inside of her thigh before he stood up, dragging his mouth up her stomach, grazing his teeth over each of her nipples, before he found her lips again. She was panting, her forehead pressed to his, but her hands were quickly moving south, finding and undoing his pants before she slid a hand inside to cup him tightly, fingers folding around his length and pumping him with quick, hard strokes. He arched his hips closer, his eyes closed, his mouth parted as he focused solely on the feel of her fingers moving over him, her palm sliding over the crown of his cock. Her fingers were so much smaller than his, delicate, and surprisingly adept considering how often she stumbled over her words. He should have expected that; Felicity, for all her babbling, never did anything half-assed. He gripped her thighs as he enjoyed her explorative touch, feeling how she still trembled. But then her hand was gone and he felt it starkly, his eye opening to watch her. _

_He noticed suddenly that her glasses weren't on, something she was reminded of when she reached up to adjust them and found nothing sliding down her nose. _

_"Condom?" she reminded, breathlessly. _

_His head turned from her, brow furrowed, his mind foggy. His gym bag was nearby though and he walked over to it, digging around inside until he found what he was looking for. He tore it open as he returned to her, grabbing up one of her knees to pull her leg around his waist. She took the condom from his hand and rolled it on for him, stroking him a few more times before she raised her other knee. It hit him abruptly what he was doing. Felicity was naked except for the skirt ringing her waist, her legs spread, her neck and breasts littered with his bites. She was gorgeous. Flushed, her hair tumbling down her shoulders, completely confident as she reached for him, hands settling on his hips, drawing him near._

_He didn't feel regret in that moment; he didn't even spare a moment to second guess what he was doing. Some part of his brain told him that it was bound to happen eventually. That he had known all along that they would eventually get here. He buried a hand behind her neck and pulled her in for a kiss; all panting breaths and teeth scraping over lips. He bit down on her lip as she wrapped her hand around him and rubbed the head of his cock down her slit, circling her clit. He broke the kiss so he could watch her and, for the rest of his life, he would remember the look on her face the first time he sunk inside her. The way her mouth fell open and her eyes widened, how her head fell back just a little. It would stay with him, seared into his brain, putting everyone before her to shame. _

_His hand tightened in her hair, twining her soft curls around his fingers as they moved together, hard and fast. His mouth trailed down to her breasts, teasing her pink nipples, biting down on them to make her clench around him, a grunt exiting her lips, her nails scoring his shoulders. There was that sting he wanted. He didn't want her to hold back. He wanted to remember this; he wanted to feel it in the morning. The way she gripped him inside her, how her teeth dug into his shoulders, her nails into his skin. He wanted to feel the pressure of her legs around his waist, thighs shaking. _

_God, she felt good. Hot and tight and squeezing all around him. This was better than fighting, better than sending an arrow through anyone. This felt right. There were no lies here. His hood was off, but the paint was still on. The woman currently in his arms knew him, the real him. She was aware of the different masks he wore, the difference faces he had to put on to please some people and keep others in the dark. She knew exactly who it was that was fucking her and she wasn't the least bit concerned about it. She accepted him. The jaded, tortured soul that wasn't always sure about what was right or wrong anymore, who needed a little guidance, who needed her voice to say 'no' from time to time, needed her hand on his arm to stop him from making rash decisions, needed that concern in her voice when he came back after a hard patrol or had trouble navigating the waters of his family and friends, people who weren't always who he thought they were. _

_Somehow, this made more sense than anything he'd done since he got back from the island. He kissed her sloppily, his control falling apart as she tightened her legs around him, starting to climax. He slid a hand between them, rubbing his fingers over her clit as his hips picked up speed. She cried out, her head tipping away, and he caught her by her neck, holding her close while he bit down on her lip as she orgasmed, breathing out his name. He was right behind her, the tight fluttering of her around him pulling him over the edge. His eyes squeezed shut, his whole body falling forward for a moment, caught against hers, pleasure firing on every nerve. _

_They just sat there a few minutes, a tangle of sweaty bodies, panting. He pressed lazy kisses down her neck and over her shoulders as her body loosened, muscles relaxing completely. He let go of her only long enough to get rid of the condom and then he was back, touching her, from the slope of her shoulders down to the flare of her waist and lazily stroking the tops of her thighs. Soft; she was so damn soft. She slid her arms around his neck and he kissed down the length of one, lightly biting the inside of her elbow, smiling when she jumped at the sensation. _

_The adrenaline of earlier had worn off and now he was just feeling good, if a little tired. But he liked this, he liked how quiet she was in the aftermath, letting her hands do her talking as they moved through his hair and over his chest, around the sculpt of his biceps and across the ridges of his abdomen. She traced the tattoo on his chest, but didn't ask him about it. He liked that too. That she didn't push or pressure him; she just accepted that there were parts of him that he wasn't ready to discuss. Yet. _

_It wasn't until an alert came up on her computer that they separated, getting dressed, reminded that the rest of the world was still there. She didn't ask for a definition, didn't ask him why it had happened or if it would again. But he already knew. He'd tasted her once and he wanted more. He wasn't ready to label what this was, but he knew it wasn't as simple as it seemed. For now, he would see what she would give him, and he would enjoy every moment of it. _

Seven months later, they had a label. Not one that Felicity had forced so much as him telling her he wanted more; he didn't want to be in that undefined space anymore. She hadn't been sure, had even told him that it was too dangerous, which he was pretty sure was supposed to be his line, but Oliver had spent too much of his life being afraid of his future, usually screwing himself over rather than facing it. He wasn't going to let that happen now. He'd come to grips with his life. He wouldn't just have the book of names to cross off, he would have a city to save, in any way it needed. And he wouldn't avoid commitment or love, not when it was staring him in the face, offering him something amazing.

Whether Felicity agreed with him remained to be seen. She loved him, she'd told him so, but stepping out in front of high society, meeting his mother, didn't seem to be helping her cope with the recent change in their relationship.

Which was she was standing in front of him, looking nauseas, telling him, "This was a _terrible _idea."

"Personally, I think it was one of my better ones," he replied.

She pursed her lips at him, which were painted an attractive shade of coral pink. "I can't do this," she told him, shaking her head. "I mean, _physically _I can… But mentally? No." She gnawed her lip. "I'm going to say something stupid, I know I am, and then I'm going to panic and it's going to become a long, rambly problem that I won't be able to fix, no matter how many times I apologize. And then your mother is going to be so horrified that I work for her company, let alone am dating her son, that she'll have no choice but to fire me and rally a coup to have me kicked out of Starling City." Her brows hiked. "And let me tell you, I'm not wearing the right heels for running away from a lynch mob, okay?"

He barely stifled a smile and shook his head, amused. "If it makes you feel better, _nobody _there tonight will be wearing the right heels for a lynch mob."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "_Oliver…_"

He reached for her, taking her hands in his, and tugged her forward until she was close enough for him to press his forehead to hers. "Felicity…"

She opened her eyes to look up at him, her fear showing clearly.

"My mother will love you…" Before she could argue, he kissed her, and added, "And even if she didn't, it wouldn't change anything between us."

"You're sure?"

He reached up, kneading her neck gently. "Completely."

Her forehead wrinkled. "Even if I start to ramble?"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "_Especially _if you start to ramble."

A smile finally broke through and she took in a deep breath, raising her chin. "Okay."

He arched an eyebrow. "We can go?"

"Yes." She reached over and grabbed her clutch off the end table and her keys out of a bowl before stepping out into the hall with him, turning to lock the door.

He took a moment to admire her. Her long hair was swept up, with a few tendrils falling loose down her neck and framing her face, devoid of her usual glasses. The midnight blue dress she wore had only one sleeve, draped over her left shoulder while her right was left bare. It hugged her without looking tight, a knot at her hip creating attractive folds in the fabric, and fell to just above her knees. She was beautiful.

Tucking her keys in her clutch, she looked up at him. "Ready?"

He smiled lightly and held an arm out for her to take.

Sliding hers around it, she walked with him down the hall to the elevator. "So what is this fundraiser for again?"

"It's an annual thing, for the children's hospital. It's one of my mother's projects; she's been doing it for as long as I can remember."

She nodded. "So she rounds up as many of the elite as she can and has them empty their pockets to help the needy…? Sounds like somebody else I know." Reaching over, she readjusted his tie and smiled up at him. "Maybe it runs in the family."

"I have a feeling she's nicer about it," he returned, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know. I get the feeling your mom could be pretty scary if necessary. You don't last this long in the cutthroat business world without picking up a few things."

"Is that right?"

"Mmhmm." She nodded. "It's why I went into tech and not business. I'm more of a behind-the-scenes girl." She wrinkled her nose. "Sadly, I can't pull of intimidating at all… Now, you need awkward word-vomit, and I'm your girl. You need to scare somebody for information, and I'd have to send in my much scarier—" She reached up and scrubbed her nails over his whiskers, "—and _scruffier_ half."

He grinned down at her. "Another reason we work then. You find the dirt and I use it to intimidate others into doing the right thing."

"What an accomplished pair we make."

"And attractive," he added, letting his eyes wander down her frame once more.

He watched as a warm flush suffused her upper chest. "Well, that goes without saying…"

Sliding his hand down into hers, he raised it up, kissing the back just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Felicity turned her head away, taking her time dragging her eyes from his, before stepping forward, out of the elevator and into the main hall. They walked past the long wall of mailboxes to the front door, where he pushed it open for her and followed her out. A car was waiting for them at the curb; Diggle stepped out of it as they reached the bottom of the stairs leading from the apartment building.

He grinned. "You look great, Felicity."

She smiled up at him. "Normal great or photographed on the arm of a billionaire great?"

"She's nervous," Oliver explained, shaking his head.

"Well, you're used to the attention, so you don't know how weird this is."

"I already offered to go in through the back if the media attention bothers you…"

She frowned. "No, that'd be cowardly… And it's not really the cameras that are scaring me. Although they don't exactly make me feel any better."

"I'm guessing it's meeting your family," Diggle offered, brows raised.

"Technically, you've already met them," Oliver reminded.

Felicity socked him in the arm. "Awkwardly saying 'hi' while they're all crowded around Walter's hospital bed does _not_ count."

"She makes a good point," Diggle agreed. "Plus, back then she was just a friend, and everybody was more distracted with Walter's recovery. Now she has to make sure she impresses people."

"_Exactly_," Felicity agreed, waving a hand at Diggle as if to say 'See? He understands.'

"Yes, thank you, Dig, for helping to reassure her that this isn't anything to be worried about," Oliver said sarcastically, his eyebrow raised at his friend.

With a calming smile, Dig turned back to Felicity. "Think of it this way… The most intimidating person you've ever met is your _date_… If you can impress _him_, how hard could meeting a few socialites really be?"

She turned her eyes up thoughtfully. "That was surprisingly comforting," she admitted.

"Great. Then we can get going before my mother calls me… for the _third _time, to remind me how important it is that I'm there tonight."

Diggle chuckled under his breath before reaching for the door and opening it for them to climb inside. Felicity smiled up at him thankfully before she slid across the leather seat to the opposite end, leaving plenty of space for Oliver to join her and then some. He raised an amused eyebrow. "Is there a reason you're sitting so far away?"

She shifted in her seat and looked over at him. "Yes. And the blame lays solely on your hands." She wagged a finger at him. "I spent a lot of time and energy trying to look presentable and if you think I'm going to waste it on a little hanky-panky before we get there, then you're dreaming."

Oliver smiled faintly. "Hanky-panky?" he repeated, reaching for her, his hand falling to her knee and squeezing gently.

"I mean it, Oliver." She tapped his wrist. "I'm not showing up to this thing with one hair out of place. I need your mother to take me seriously."

"What if I promise there won't be any hanky-panky? I'll be the perfect gentleman," he assured, nodding. "Then will you try sitting a little closer?"

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "How close is closer?" She slid an inch over in her seat. "Is this close enough?"

He shook his head.

She moved over two more. "How about now?"

He frowned, tipping his head.

"No…?" She wiggled over a little more, but stopped when he reached across her, his hand on her far hip, and pulled her easily across the seat, until her side was plastered against his.

"Right there." Content, he took her hand in his and settled it in his lap, his thumb stroking back and forth over her palm.

She scoffed under her breath and tipped her head back to see him. "Any closer and I'd be in your lap."

He stared down at her, his eyes falling to her mouth. "I'm under strict orders to avoid hanky-panky, Miss. Smoak, so you'll have to control yourself."

She laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "Dig," she called, drawing the attention of the man driving for them, his head turned in askance. "You'll have to distract me before I fall prey to Oliver's flirting… How's Carly?"

Oliver smiled lightly before casting his eyes out the window. They weren't very far from the hall his mother rented every year for the event. Unlike Felicity, his nerves weren't the least bit frayed. Introducing her to his mother and Thea didn't worry him at all. In fact, Thea had frequently asked about who the 'pretty blonde' was since they briefly met in Walter's hospital room, and it had only increased after they met again in his office at Verdant. Despite her long-time curiosity, however, she got nothing but vague answers until last week, when he'd informed them he'd be bringing his girlfriend along to the fundraiser.

_Dinner had recently become a somewhat mandatory event. Oliver wasn't exactly complaining because he knew he didn't spend nearly enough time with his mother or Thea as any of them would like. But Oliver had a lot on his plate between the list and general crime around Starling, not that he could really use that as an excuse for the people in front of him. In their minds, he just spent a lot of time at the club. Tommy still refused to work with him and Oliver couldn't blame him. He knew that Oliver killed his dad; whether he was justified in doing so or not didn't matter. There was no going back from there. So Oliver used it as an excuse to spend more time at Verdant, or, more aptly, in the foundry. And if he wasn't there then he was usually at Felicity's, so spending time with his family had been put on the backburner. Which was why his mother had made it mandatory that he be home for dinner and, despite it becoming a problem he routinely had to structure the rest of his day around, he enjoyed it. _

_"So I'm going to be a little late to the charity thing next week," Thea announced, smiling up at Raisa as her dinner was placed in front of her. _

_Moira frowned. "Because…?"_

_"Roy doesn't finish his shift until 7, so I said I'd pick him up and wait for him while he gets ready." She shrugged. "I figured it'd be dumb to go to the fundraiser and then take off a half later just to go pick him up."_

_"Couldn't he just meet you there?" her mother wondered, reaching for her glass of wine._

_Thea rolled her eyes in a classically impatient way. "_No_… Because then he'd have to take the subway back to the Glades, and then into town again. He wouldn't make it there until _at least _9, and by then it'd be pointless."_

_Moira pursed her lips while her daughter tensed and Oliver could already tell they were about to break into an argument. _

_He sighed, sitting back in his chair. "I might be a little late too," he interrupted._

_Moira's attention quickly turned to him, her head cocked in a disapproving look that he was well used to by now. _

_"It doesn't have to do with the club," he said knowingly, shaking his head minutely. "I have to pick my girlfriend up. She's nervous about meeting you, so we'll probably be a little late. She tends to ramble, it could take a little bit."_

_Moira and Thea stared at him a long moment; the silence in the room was deafening._

_"You… Your girlfriend," Moira said haltingly, her eyes opening wide. "I… didn't know you were seeing anyone."_

_"For a while now," he admitted. "We've been keeping it quiet."_

_"Why?" Thea wondered, her brow furrowed._

_Oliver smiled at her faintly. Thea had so much confidence about her sometimes that he was constantly being reminded that she wasn't a little girl anymore. She didn't beat around the bush; if she wanted answers, she demanded them. Of course, he couldn't tell her the real reason behind why he and Felicity had kept it secret. Much of it being because they had only defined themselves as a couple yesterday. But a large portion of it was also due to the fact that Oliver had an image he needed to uphold in order to keep people from paying any real attention to him. The playboy billionaire shtick didn't equate at all to the late night vigilante, and they preferred to keep it that way. Not to mention that even Oliver had enemies, people who wouldn't hesitate to put Felicity in danger, whether they knew he was the Hood or not._

_"She works at the company… We wanted to be sure it was serious before we went public. We didn't want it to look bad on her if things didn't turn out well," he answered. _

_"Then things are… _serious _between you?" Moira asked, placing her wine glass back on the table as she looked at him searchingly. "She's important to you?"_

_The Oliver she thought he was might have made a joke, played it off, said something like, "Aren't they all?" to keep it from becoming heavy. But Oliver already knew what he expected of his relationship with Felicity. It wasn't going to be short-lived, he could already tell that. His future was being mapped out in that very moment, far beyond the list, and it had her in it. Not only as tech support, but at his side. The only other woman he'd introduced to his parents with that in mind had been Laurel. And yes, he'd screwed that up, sabotaging their relationship when he was faced with the very real commitment of living together. But he was a different person then; he hadn't been ready for that step. The person he was now, who he was with Felicity, wasn't scared of his future anymore. _

_"I love her," he declared simply. "And I hope you'll love her too."_

_"Holy shit," Thea muttered._

_"_Thea!_" their mother chastised._

_"What? _Sorry_. I just…" She shook her head, peering at Oliver. "I never thought he'd get over Laurel, y'know?" _

_His lips twitched. "Laurel's happy with Tommy, and I'm happy for them… _Genuinely_."_

_Thea's eyes narrowed on him. "Huh," she mused, "You really are…"_

_"Well, I think it's wonderful that you've found someone. And I look forward to meeting her," Moira told him. "What's her name?"_

_"Felicity... You met her briefly, when Walter was in the hospital."_

_Thea sat up abruptly and pointed at him in gleeful triumph. "Ah-ha! I _knew _it! I _knew _you were into her!"_

_"When Walter was in the hospital…" Moira shook her head. "Oliver, that was a _year_ ago!"_

_He could hear the disapproving tone and knew she wasn't happy that he'd hidden something from her for that long. If she knew just how much he kept from her, he imagined this wouldn't be all that huge in the grand scheme. "We've been together seven months." _

_"It took you _that _look to realize you were serious about her?" Thea snorted. _

_Truth be told, he thought he'd started getting serious about her the moment they started something, maybe even earlier than that, when he hadn't been willing to explore that connection with her. After they'd started sleeping together, it didn't change the fact that his life was complicated and he'd had a hard time convincing himself that he wouldn't be putting her more in harm's way if they revealed their relationship. More, it took him a while to figure out how Felicity really felt about him. She was careful. He knew her feelings were strong, but the idea that he might be in love with her when she didn't feel the same wasn't something he had been ready to face. So he'd waited, testing the waters. But last night, when she'd carefully avoided labeling them, he realized that waiting wasn't helping them to get any traction, and he needed to tell her what she meant to him before she convinced herself that being with him wasn't worth it. _

_"No, I just didn't feel like sharing her."_

_Thea wrinkled her nose. "Ew. Caveman." Grabbing a cherry tomato out of her salad, she threw it at him. "Great, while you were holed up in your little love nest for seven months, I was over here trying to convince mom that Roy wasn't just some hooligan. Next time, I'll take a page out of your book."_

_"Should I warn Roy you plan on replacing him?"_

_She rolled her eyes._

_Moira watched the banter between them with fondness. "Well, regardless of how long it took you, I'm glad you're finally introducing us. I admit I don't quite remember her; things were so chaotic after Walter came back…" Her eyes fell, a tightness around her mouth that spoke of the heartache she still carried. _

_Walter had filed for divorce shortly after his return, which Oliver couldn't say he didn't understand. He knew his mother had a hand in what happened, even if she was only doing it to keep her family safe. Thankfully, he'd been able to stop Malcolm before he could level the Glades. There was a part of him that knew his mother should have to pay for her sins, but he loved her too much to be the person who collected._

_Putting that thought away, as he often had in the last year, he smiled at his mother. "It's fine. You'll like her, I promise."_

_"I'm sure I will."_

_"And _I _will __be happy to share all of your embarrassing childhood stories," Thea offered. _

_"Always so helpful, Thea," he mused._

_"You're welcome," she said with a sarcastic grin. Casting her eyes back to her mother, she added, "So this means it's cool that Roy and I are late, right?"_

_Moira inhaled deeply, and Oliver briefly wondered if they'd managed to avoid an argument at all. _

_"Yes," his mother finally said. "As long as you two make it, I think we can excuse you being a little late."_

_"Awesome." Thea grinned at him, and he winked back. _

_Crisis averted. _

"Oliver?"

Blinking out of his memory, he turned to the woman next to him, brow raised.

"We're here," Felicity said, nodding her chin toward the window.

He turned to see the stairs leading into the hall were filled with paparazzi, newspaper reporters, and their cameramen. "Okay." He looked back at her. "Are you ready?"

She chewed her lip, staring at the people standing outside, waiting for a good shot.

He reached for her knee, squeezing gently. "Felicity, if you honestly aren't ready for this… If you want to do this less publicly, I can set up a dinner with mom and Thea, something simple…" he offered.

Taking in a deep breath, she shook her head, raising her chin. "No, we're doing this. Tonight."

"You're sure?"

She turned her gaze back to him. "Don't get me wrong, it's daunting. It's _really _daunting. But it's just people… Curious people with cameras, yes, and I don't really want to think about all the ways those pictures are going to be _way _unflattering. But they're just people. And they don't matter. Your mom, Thea, they do, and I _want _to meet them. I want to _impress _them. So maybe it's awkward and maybe I think I'll probably, _definitely_ say the wrong thing, more than once, but I have to try."

He smiled slowly and leaned in to kiss her, lingering at her mouth. "And that's one of the many reasons I love you."

Her eyes were closed as she hummed. "Because I ramble?"

"That too. But I meant because you try, even when you're scared. You don't let anything stop you."

Opening her eyes, she tipped her head back to stare at him, her mouth twisted with regret. "All right. Let's get out of this car before I put my own no hanky-panky rule to shame."

He chuckled under his breath.

The door opened then, as if Diggle had overheard the decision.

Oliver turned, climbing from the car, and held a hand back for her to take.

She didn't hesitate, sliding her fingers over his palm and squeezing.

He drew her out, adjusting the button on his jacket.

As soon as her face was visible, they were blinded by the flash of cameras.

While not yet in print, it would soon become public knowledge that it was this moment that Oliver Queen was officially off the market.

[**To be continued**: Part II.]


	2. Part II

**Title**: Love, the kind that's not undone (Love, I know you are the one)  
**Sequel to**: I Can Feel Your Heartbeat (Running Through Me)  
**Category**: Arrow  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama  
**Ship**: Felicity/Oliver  
**Rating**: NC-17-Explicit  
**Word Count**: 7,938  
**Summary**: [Three-Parter] Oliver and Felicity make their public debut as a couple. It's both as hard and as easy as he expected.

**_Love, the kind that's not undone (Love, I know you are the one)  
_**-2/3-

_Love, they say it heals all wounds  
Love, removes the hurt in you  
Love, I know that this is true_

**II**.

Oliver's immediate reaction to the flurry of flashing cameras was to don the mask he wore so often. He offered a smile for the crowd and gave them a wave, even reaching out to shake the hand of a reporter he knew often tried to paint him and his family in a flattering light. Fingers twined, his and Felicity's hands hung together between them as he started forward and she matched his steps. Questions were called out, asking for her name, who designed her dress, how long they'd been seeing each other, but Oliver simply maneuvered her up the stairs to the front doors.

"You good?" he murmured against her ear.

She blew out a shaky breath, but nodded.

He squeezed her hand before turning his attention to the man taking names at the front. He didn't even bother to ask Oliver for a ticket or identification, though, recognizing him on sight. "Have a good evening, Mr. Queen."

"Thank you," he replied, ushering Felicity inside.

The front foyer was large, with a high ceiling that meant everything echoed, including Felicity's stiletto heels on the shiny marble floors. Oliver had long become used to the grandeur, but Felicity's eyes were wide as she took in the tall, pristine white walls with gold borders that gave them an antique look. A large coat check took up a good portion of the room, a small line-up of people were waiting to add their jackets to the rest. Bypassing it, having left their coats at home given the warm night, they made their way to one of the curved staircases leading up into the main hall. Felicity's hand slid over the banister as they climbed the stairs. Classical music and the mixed noise of people talking carried from the open double doors at the top.

"They're not going to do that weird introduction thing, are they? Where they tell the room who's arrived…?"

He smiled, helpless to it as she peered up at him, looking nervous. "No."

"You're sure?"

His lips twitched. "I can ask someone to if you want."

She jabbed her elbow into his side, frowning at him.

He laughed under his breath, ducking his head to hide a smile. "It's going to be fine." He reached up, his hand finding her neck, and kneaded softly. "Trust me."

She sighed, but leaned into him.

When they reached the doors, she stared inside with wide eyes, but didn't falter as she stepped over the threshold and into the hall. The decorations were classy, using pale colors to add to the decorum rather than overwhelm it. There were flower arrangements set up on the outskirts of the room that left a sweet scent on the air and blended in with the muted color scheme. Tables were set up with platters of food, arranged perfectly to appeal to the eye. His mother had, apparently, decided to forgo the four-course meal this year. A classical band was set up atop an elevated platform, where a microphone waited for the charity coordinator to make a speech.

Oliver kept up with Felicity's slow steps, casting his eyes over the large crowd, all wearing designer gowns and tuxes, showing off their wealth in their over-the-top jewelry. The room was filled with acquaintances he'd made over the years, people he had to know because of the family he grew up in rather than because he wanted to. Not all of them were terrible; in fact, there were a number who were good people. But a few of them were names on his list, and that made his gut twist.

"No Hood business tonight, remember?" Felicity reminded, her head tipped toward him and her voice pitched low so only he would hear.

He nodded, not bothering to wonder how she knew exactly what he was thinking. Felicity had spent so much time with him, aiding him on the list, that she always seemed to know when it was weighing on his mind. While it certainly helped on missions and as a couple, it was extremely important to him from a purely individual basis. There were times that Oliver had trouble understanding himself, when his mind would wander to the island and he became a fragment of himself again. Felicity had a way of making him focus on the here and now, always seeming to know when he was far away, drowning in those memories, and she was the hand that reached down and pulled him up.

Oliver blinked a few times, shaking off the internal dialogue.

"I think I saw my mother," he told her, his eyes cutting a path toward where Moira stood, looking elegant as she entertained a group of people. Despite knowing all he did about her, he watched his mother with a smile. She was still the woman who raised him, good or bad, and he loved her.

Felicity made a strangled noise and he turned toward her.

Raising a brow at how her mouth pinched with nervousness, he asked, "Not yet?"

She shook her head. "Maybe we could get something to eat…? Dance…? Sneak out the window…?"

He smiled understandingly. "Sure." He cast his eyes upward and amended, "For two out of three."

"I can skip dancing, but if I don't get food, I'm going to have to make Dig go through drive-thru before we go home," she warned with a grin.

Amused, he leaned over to kiss her hair, lingering there a moment to breathe in the soft scent of her shampoo.

Relaxing into him, she slid an arm around his waist. "Okay. One dance, then we'll properly introduce me to your mom, sound good?"

"Good," he agreed, before leading her out toward the dance floor. He nodded to a few familiar faces, even shook some hands in hello, but didn't stop to chat. He knew the Oliver Queen image demanded it of him, but there was still plenty of time throughout the night to make up for being impolite now. Felicity needed to gather up her gumption and he was more than willing to help her do so. Besides, spending a few minutes holding her on the dance floor didn't exactly seem like a chore to him, especially in comparison to trying to impress boring, but wealthy, businessmen.

The floor wasn't overcrowded with couples dancing, but enough so that they could blend in comfortably. Oliver's fingers drummed down her back as she turned to face him, her hand raised for his to meet. He brought her in close, his fingers stroking soothingly over the small of her back. Felicity's free hand moved from his shoulder to the collar of his jacket, teasing at his neck.

For a while, all they did was sway together, a simple dance that kept them close. He twirled her a few times, just because he liked the way she smiled when he did. She played with his fingers as their raised hands pressed together, palm to palm. He watched as she tried to stretch her fingers out to match as long as his was and a low laugh left his chest. Giving up on making her hand any larger, she dragged her nails down the lengths of his fingers before fitting hers between them. He brought her hand over and kissed her knuckles and then her wrist.

With a soft sigh, she stepped in closer to him, leaving them chest to chest.

"It's nice, isn't it?" he asked, resting his cheek against her temple.

"Hm?"

"Being out, together… All pleasure, no work…" He slid his hand up her back a little before moving it back down, and felt her shiver. "No more keeping us secret."

"It's nice," she agreed. "Although I wasn't complaining about all the risky sex… Or, well, sex with the risk of being caught. Not really _risky _sex. I mean, at no point was I worried about my safety."

His low chuckle cut her off, and she dropped her forehead down to his shoulder. "This is what I meant. This is what's going to happen when I talk to your mother."

"Well, it'll certainly break the ice."

"Oliver…" she complained.

He rubbed his hand up her back and between her shoulder blades. "I promise I'll interrupt you if you start rambling, okay?"

"You have my permission to stomp on my foot if it gets out of control," she told him.

His brows rose. "Physical violence; you really think it'll get to that?"

"I think we should be prepared for the event of."

"Prepared for what? What are we preparing for?" a voice interrupted.

Oliver turned his head abruptly, his brow furrowed. "I thought you were going to be late."

Thea rolled her eyes. "Roy talked his boss into letting him off early, so we got here on time." She looked between him and Felicity, who'd lifted her head off his chest and was now staring nervously at his sister. "So? What are you preparing for?"

"The inevitable," Felicity replied.

"Which would be…?" she asked, shaking her head questioningly.

"That I'll embarrass myself and won't be able to stop, so Oliver will have to come to my rescue."

"Oh, well at least you have a safety plan. Personally, I just like to act like whatever I did wasn't embarrassing. People usually just forget it if you're not reacting. What's the point if they can't make you feel bad, right?"

Felicity blinked. "That's… actually a pretty good idea."

"Thanks, I have a lot of them." She grinned. "It's Felicity, right…?" She smirked playfully. "_Oliver's _Felicity."

Felicity flushed, obviously remembering the last time she and Thea were introduced and he'd stumbled over what to call her.

"My much smarter and prettier girlfriend," Oliver added, this time without any uncertainty.

"If she's so much smarter, why'd she settle on you?" Thea teased.

"He's talented in other ways." Felicity paused and then winced. "That came wrong. I didn't mean... Well, not that he isn't. He is. _Very_. But, I meant—"

"It's fine," Oliver interrupted, knowing exactly where that thought well on its way to taking her.

She smiled at him gratefully, apparently also anticipating how that word-vomit was going to end.

Thea looked between them, grinning. "_So! _Felicity." She moved toward her and hooked her arm through Felicity's. "You hungry? We could go set some really tiny food that won't fill you up at all and talk about how you managed to snag my perpetually single brother."

"Oh, _uh_…" she trailed off, her nose wrinkled.

"That's cute. You think I'll take no for an answer…"

Felicity looked back at Oliver, but he merely shrugged.

Thea was already dragging her away; there was little to do now. They left him standing in the middle of the dance floor, partnerless, shaking his head in amusement. He should have anticipated that Thea would do that. She wanted answers and, now that she knew Felicity had a habit of rambling, she was probably going to use it to her advantage. He briefly considered whether or not he should go after them. He had promised he would keep Felicity from rambling after all…

"Hey," someone called.

Oliver turned, finding Roy standing nearby, looking somehow both bored and slightly uncomfortable in his tux. Much as Oliver still worried about his sister spending time with him, he also knew that Roy wasn't a bad guy. He had bigger dreams and he wanted to do good in the world. But Oliver hadn't yet let him into the world of the Hood. He wasn't sure he ever would. Roy was young and, whether he wanted to admit it or not, innocent to a degree.

"You seen my date?"

"She just stole my date," he answered.

Rolling his eyes, Roy nodded. "Yeah, she's been talking about that all week. Apparently it's big news that you're in a relationship." His raised eyebrow said he didn't get why that would be worth talking about.

"Considering how my previous ones have ended, I suppose I understand why."

Oliver let himself consider for a moment all that had happened in his former relationships. From Laurel, both before and after the island. He'd gone from running far, far away from commitment to cheating on her with her own sister, who died because of his selfish actions, only for him to return to her life, turn it on its head, and nearly destroy her relationship with Tommy in the process. Then there was Helena who hadn't quite been a girlfriend so much as a lover who'd had the potential to be more, only to choose her vendetta against her father over the justice and companionship he offered. And then McKenna, who'd suffered a debilitating injury because of his history with her and Helena's reappearance in his life. Not to mention his constant lying and disappearing act, which just about anybody who dated him had to put up with. Except Felicity, though that was usually because if he had to disappear for Hood business, so did she. And, if she didn't, she could at least understand the 'why' of his actions.

Despite not knowing the details of Oliver's screwed up romantic history, Roy shrugged. "We all got pasts."

Oliver raised an eyebrow at him, his protective streak suddenly hitting him hard. "And how does Thea feel about your past?"

He glanced at him. "Thea's different… She's special."

He stared at him a long moment, only a little surprised at the sincerity in Roy's face.

There was a part of him, a very large part, that wanted to scare Roy off. Putting the fear of God into him might even make him feel good. But he didn't think it was really _Roy _so much as that he didn't like the idea of his sister being with anyone. Whether that was partly due to the fact that, in his head, she would always be so little, so much younger than him, didn't matter. Another part of him understood that Thea was capable of making her own decisions and it wasn't up to him to twist them to his benefit. Roy was a nice enough guy and he seemed to truly care about Thea. For now, Oliver would just have to accept that and allow things to happen as they were meant to.

"Oliver?"

He turned then, searching out the voice, and found his mother walking toward him. He instantly smiled in greeting, his carefully cultivated image picking itself up for her.

"There you are. I've been looking for you." When she reached him, she raised her cheek for him to kiss and then turned to see Roy. "You made it on time," she said, her brows raised slightly.

Oliver was amused to see Roy stand a little taller. "Yes. Sorry for the mix-up. I talked to my boss, asked if he could let me off earlier. I know how important it is that Thea's here."

"Good, I'm glad." She smiled softly. "And where is my daughter?"

"With his girlfriend," he answered, pointing a thumb at Oliver.

"Apparently getting food and gossiping about me," Oliver explained.

"Ahh… Well, why don't we go find them then?" she suggested, turning on her heel and starting toward the buffet tables.

Oliver sighed, but followed after her, Roy right behind him. He was a little worried about what he might stumble upon, now that he thought about it. Knowing how nervous Felicity was, he wouldn't be surprised to find her mid-ramble about their sex life. He was relieved to find that instead they were laughing, a plate of fruit, cheese and vegetables in each of their hands. Felicity didn't look embarrassed at all, she wasn't even blushing. He felt himself relax and moved toward her, his hand finding her waist.

"Something funny?"

She and Thea exchanged a look and started laughing again, and he knew immediately it was about him. He couldn't even find it in him to be irritated, though, since Thea had warned him she'd break out the embarrassing stories. He rolled his eyes to himself and accepted his fate.

"Thea was just telling me about your love of the Power Rangers growing up… and that your favorite was the yellow ranger."

"He was the yellow ranger for Halloween when he was twelve," Thea continued, wiping under her eyes.

"Wasn't the yellow ranger a girl?" Roy wondered, his brow furrowed.

"She was a very skilled fighter," Oliver defended.

"Thea found the pictures when she was ten; she called him 'Olivia' for a whole month," Moira added, smiling fondly at the memory.

He rolled his eyes. "She still does sometimes."

"Well, I'm proud you were fighting gender roles that early in life," Felicity told him, bumping his hip with hers.

"I'm not sure that was my intention, but as long as you're proud," he said, smiling down at her.

She smiled back up at him and, for a moment, everyone else faded away. He could already imagine her bringing it up later, telling him he'd been preparing to be a hero as early as twelve years old, even if it was a fictional female one.

A throat cleared, drawing his attention, and Oliver looked over to see his mother waiting, her brows raised. "Oh, right. Felicity, this is my mother, Moira Queen," he introduced.

Felicity's smile turned slightly nervous, but she held a hand out. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Queen… Again. I mean, the last time was really brief and I don't expect you to remember me. And I've seen you around Queen Consolidated but we've never really talked. Walter spoke very highly of you though. But he's your ex-husband, so you probably don't want to talk about that." She fidgeted. "I'm sorry. You make me nervous. Can we just pretend I stopped at 'It's nice to meet you'?"

Moira's eyes widened slightly, but she smiled all the same. "It's nice to meet you too, Felicity." She glanced briefly at Oliver and then returned her attention to Felicity. "So, you work at Queen Consolidated then?"

"Oh, yes!" She nodded. "I'm happily employed in the IT Department… So happily I would be really disappointed to ever be fired, so it'd be great if we could avoid that."

Thea laughed outright, smothering it behind her hand before she popped a cherry tomato into her mouth.

Moira let the comment slide and instead asked, "And is that how you and Oliver met?"

Felicity nodded. "He spilled a latte on his laptop; he was hoping I might be able to fix it."

"Which she did," he said, squeezing his hand on her hip. "She's very talented."

"So what took so long for you two to get together?" Thea wondered, brow furrowed. "You guys were friends for a while, right?"

Felicity nodded. "We just weren't ready yet. There were a lot of things we needed to deal with, separately, before we made sense together."

Speaking of, Oliver spotted one those things as she was talking. Laurel and Tommy were standing together in the distance, talking to an older couple. They looked good together, something that would have bothered him a year ago. Had the situation been different, Oliver might have waved them over. He wondered what Tommy would think of Felicity, if he'd be excited for Oliver or not. But things between he and Tommy were tense and he didn't want to put any pressure on it. Maybe, in time, his best friend would forgive him, and maybe not. It was difficult to swallow, but he had to accept either outcome.

Oliver turned his attention back to Felicity, who had somehow gotten on the topic of her first boyfriend. His mother and Thea listened intently, apparently not the least bit surprised by the turn of subject. "I should have known when he told me his name was Melvin that this was going to be a story I told later," she sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, long story short, if you have braces, never date a boy who _also_ has braces…"

"Amen, sister," Thea agreed, holding a fist out for a bump.

Felicity awkwardly bumped back and then tipped her head in surprise. "You had braces?"

She nodded. "Please, in this high society cesspool? Not a hair out of place or they _crucify_ you. Same goes for teeth."

"Oh, it isn't _that _bad," Moira denied, shaking her head at her daughter.

"Trust me, it is," Thea argued, her brows raised.

"Don't scare her off." She turned back to Felicity and put a bracing hand on her arm. "Thea exaggerates. She wasn't a big fan of how she was raised. Yes, there are vultures, but there are good people too."

"It makes sense. There's gotta be balance, right? We haven't achieved utopia so in order to have good, there has to be bad," Felicity answered. "Of course, sometimes the balance gets skewed, which is why it makes sense that if there's an excess of bad, we need an excess of good."

"You mean like how when Starling City started getting out of control, the Hood showed up," Roy piped in.

Everyone went silent for a moment, even Thea, who stared up at her boyfriend and then cut her eyes away to take in everyone's reaction. It wasn't exactly the setting to be discussing such things, but it was obvious that Roy had an opinion and he was willing to challenge others. Oliver both appreciated his gumption and recognized his foolhardy approach. Depending on the company, having such obvious opinions could get him into trouble. If he truly wanted to work with the Hood in future, he would have to be more careful about who he let know about his support of the Starling City vigilante.

It was Felicity who chose to answer though, her lips curling at the corners. She, apparently, had decided that the company she kept could be trusted. "Exactly."

"You think the Hood is a good person?" Moira asked, a brow raised skeptically, though there was no censure in her voice.

Oliver watched his mother for a moment, carefully deconstructing her expression but finding no hidden emotion there. Having the knowledge he did meant that he knew the Hood wasn't a welcome figure to her city. But she had an image to keep up and she wouldn't let her true feelings show if she could avoid it. It was possible that she was just curious about Felicity's opinion; maybe even interested in hearing her break it down for her so she could have a better understanding herself. Whatever her reason, Oliver still knew that having a positive opinion of the Hood could mean attention, and he wasn't sure if he wanted that attention on Felicity.

"I think the Hood has done a lot of good for the city," she announced. "His methods might have been questionable when he first arrived, but I think he's made an effort to be better… Crime rates speak for themselves, I guess. They've been down for almost two years now."

Moira nodded. "Which could also be contributed to the fact that the police force has been working harder."

"Oh, I agree. But I think part of the reason they're working harder is because they saw the Hood as a menace and started focusing on tracking him down. At the same time, their attention started to focus more on other police work, too. Take the Glades, for instance; there's been a _huge_ drop in crime. Yes, it still definitely needs help, but between the Hood and the extra bodies added to the police force, we're seeing it put a real dent in the problem."

"I like this girl," Roy told his girlfriend.

Thea rolled her eyes up at him. "You would." She passed her attention to Oliver and wondered, "What about you? What do you think of the Hood, Ollie?"

"Honestly?" He shrugged. "I haven't given it as much thought."

"Oliver was accused of _being _the Hood once," Moira explained to Felicity, shaking her head. "Can you believe that?"

Felicity laughed. "It'd be quite a shock…" She turned to look up at him, her eyes twinkling. "What do you think? Between all the time you spend in your club and with me, you really think you have time for fighting crime?"

He shook his head. "I think I'd rather devote any spare time to you. Leave the theatrics up to someone else."

She grinned. "Best leave it to the professionals."

"Mmhmm." He dipped his head down and kissed her, short and sweet.

"Gross. You are _so _mushy," Thea muttered.

Oliver turned a smile on his sister. "Distract me then?" He held a hand out for her. "C'mon. Show me what all those dance classes taught you and take me for a spin."

She laughed under her breath, but handed her plate to Roy and took Oliver's hand, letting him lead her out onto the dance floor. Oliver looked back over his shoulder to see his mother get swept away by a potential bidder for the charity while Roy moved over to Felicity, probably to engage her in more conversation about the Hood.

"She's gonna be his new best friend," Thea sighed, looking back at them.

Brows furrowed, Oliver looked at her questioningly, though he was fully aware of Roy Harper's Hood idolization.

"Seriously, his favorite subject is the Hood. But finding somebody who _agrees_ with him that the Hood's good…?" She shook her head. "That's hard to find."

"What do you think about him?" he wondered, turning to take her hand, while his other hand fell to her waist and guided them into a simple two-step. "Good guy, villain, whack job?"

She smiled, shrugging. "I don't know… My opinion goes back and forth. Sometimes I think he's good, that he's capable of good things… And then, somebody dies and the papers are saying it's on him, and suddenly justice isn't so black and white."

"Everything has shades of grey," Oliver mused. "If the world were easy to understand, we wouldn't so much time trying to make sense of why bad things happen to good people."

"You mean like why my brother was marooned on an island or my dad drowned at sea…?"

He met her eyes, dark with bitter sadness. "Exactly." He shook his head. "There's not always a straight answer for why things happen. Why people turn out the way they do."

Thea turned her head away for a moment as she let his words sink in, before finally raising her chin and looking him in the eye. "When you got back, you were different… You still are. Sometimes you act like you did, but it's not real, is it?"

His lips pressed into a firm line and, not for the first time, Oliver regretted that he couldn't be completely honest with her. "It's as real as it can be."

She sighed. "You're never going to be him again though."

He shook his head. "We all grow, Thea. You have, too."

"What if we don't grow the _right_ way…? What if instead of becoming a better person, we become someone else entirely?"

"Is that what you think happened to me?" he wondered, and for a moment he felt a pang in his chest. Not because she was wrong, but because he feared the new him would never be completely accepted by her.

"I think it's hard to stop thinking about the person you were, especially when you keep trying to be him… I also think tonight's the first time I've seen you smile, _really _smile, and mean it."

He tipped his head down at her, brow furrowed.

"I don't know her well. She seems nice, and funny, and way too smart for you," she teased. "But for whatever reason, you're real with her… The way you look at her, it's like… _Salvation_." She shrugged. "So I don't know… Maybe you'll never be the Ollie I lost, but if the Oliver you are now can be happy, then I can be okay with that."

Stopping the dance, he reached for her, his hands settling on her shoulders. "You make me happy, Speedy. Maybe I've been trying too hard to be who you remember so you'll be happy, but that doesn't change the fact that you're my sister, my family, and I would do anything for you."

She half-smiled. "I know." She reached up and socked him in the arm. "So don't screw it up with her, okay…? 'Cause it really is nice to see you smile."

He nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Good." With a sigh, she turned on her heel. "Now come on, let's go rescue my future sister-in-law from my fanboy boyfriend."

Chuckling under his breath, he followed her back to where Roy and Felicity had apparently moved past talking to the Hood and moved on to talking about the Glades in general and what would have to be done to clean it up.

"We can't ignore how much new job opportunities are needed," Felicity told him, shaking her head. "Yes, cleaning it up and bringing down crime is going to help, but the aesthetics aren't going to last unless you make the Glades into an extension of the rest of the city. It has to be a place people are willing to go to and spend money. As soon as business starts booming, the area will flourish."

"Yes, but if the area gets too good, that means that rent will go up. They'll start taking out the older houses and knocking down low-income housing to put in condos. The people that live there will be pushed out and, before you know it, a new Glades will have to be made or the homeless population will sky rocket," he argued.

"Industrialization will happen, you're right, but if the people in the Glades are getting the jobs there, then they're going to be able to grow along with it."

"But how does anyone guarantee a job to someone in the Glades? Let's face it, even the people that live there would rather hire somebody outside of it. There's no trust."

"Wow, we leave you guys for five minutes and it turns into a political statement over here," Thea said, drawing their attention.

"Roy was just telling me about how he'd like to see the Glades rejuvenated, as long as it's for the people already there and not some money-grubbing contractors with dollar signs in their eyes and a steam roller at their disposal."

"And Felicity was saying that for anything to progress, we'll need to get outside help, even if it could blow up in our faces and make things worse," he sighed.

"My justice seeker," Thea murmured fondly at her boyfriend. "He's hoping to change it from the inside out."

"That's an admirable goal," Oliver told him.

Looking awkward with the attention, Roy shrugged, casting his eyes away.

"Where'd mother go?" he asked, turning to Felicity.

"Oh, Senator Brightman needed her for something." She shrugged. "He asked about you too. I think she said you'd talk to him later."

His lips pursed. "I should probably make the rounds," he admitted.

"We can do that."

He looked over at her, a little surprised.

"What's a few socialites, right?" she joked.

He nodded, his arm sliding around her waist. "Exactly."

After saying they'd see Roy and Thea later, they started moving through the crowd. Oliver donned his socialite mask and searched out particular faces. He spoke highly of the hospital and of the charity they were sponsoring as well as asking after family and business with each person he talked to. He introduced Felicity, who surprised him with how much she knew about politics, falling into conversation with most of the people they stopped to talk to, carefully debating certain topics that had been raised without pushing any buttons. For all that she worried she would ramble too much, she seemed to find her confidence when it came to exercising her brain. He was reminded that she wasn't ordinary, she was a genius, not just as IT, but in general.

Time seemed to fly by, between meeting people and getting most of them to agree to do as much as they could for the cause, they stopped by the buffet table to pick up a few snacks.

"I still expect real food after this," she told him, holding a strawberry up for him.

He bent to take a bite of it and nodded. "Whatever you want."

She grinned. "Those are dangerous words to be throwing around, Mr. Queen."

He licked his lips and smiled down at her. "Are they?"

She turned toward him, her hand reaching up to smooth down his tie. "How do you know I won't take advantage of you?"

His lips twitched at her wording, which would've made her stutter and hurry to cover up in the past, but only made her smirk. "Maybe I'm hoping you will."

She stared up at him, giving his tie a tug, and he answered, leaning down to slant his mouth over hers. She tasted like strawberries, which was his excuse when he let his tongue stroke over hers, despite how many people they were surrounded by. Felicity sighed against his lips and drew back, pressing a few lingering kisses to his mouth, before she shook her head. "How much longer is this thing?"

He chuckled lowly and slid his hand over her hip, drawing her closer. "Too long," he said, before pressing a kiss to her hair.

Harrumphing, she rested her arm around his waist. "Maybe we should go find your mother?" she suggested, looking up at him. "We didn't get to talk much."

He nodded. "We can set up a dinner later this week, too. Something low-key."

"At the mansion?" she wondered, tracing the lapel of his jacket.

His hand stroked over her back. "If you want, sure."

Her brows raised curiously. "And I'd get to meet Raisa, too?"

He smiled. "You would."

"Sounds like a deal to me." She held her hand up for him to shake.

He let out a quiet laugh and shook her hand, before giving her a little spin and catching her around the waist. "Why don't we get another dance in before we find my mother?"

"Hmm… I could be persuaded."

"Yeah? How does a bottle of your favorite wine sound?"

She smiled slowly, nodding. "I'm listening…"

"A weekend long classic Who marathon."

"Getting warmer…"

He chuckled. "And I will paint your toes for you, the brightest shade of pink you own."

She threw her head back as she laughed and he felt his heart lurch in his chest. "Okay, you've found my weaknesses. Lead on, Mr. Queen."

"You drive a hard bargain, Miss. Smoak." He hugged her close to his side as they walked toward the dance floor.

"I'm a hard lady to please," she murmured, resting her chin on his shoulder as she looked up at him.

"I like to think I'm doing a pretty good job of it."

"Mm, ten out of ten, would recommend."

He grinned down at her, turning so he could take her hand, taking her by the waist and pulling her close. "So? Was it as scary as you thought it was going to be?"

She shook her head. "Your sister's cool. Happy to embarrass you, that's for sure."

He nodded, amused. "I think it comes with being a younger sister."

"And your mom seemed nice. She let it go when I accidentally brought up Walter, anyway." She wrinkled her nose. "Total accident. It just kind of slipped out."

"It's fine," he reassured, rubbing his thumb over hers. "It's been hard on her since the divorce was finalized. I think she was hoping he might change his mind."

She winced. "And I just brought it up, totally casually…"

He shook his head. "She won't hold it against you. Besides… it's good to talk about it. I think you've been the champion of trying to get me to talk more."

"Yes, and I've had just enough success to let it go to my head," she agreed, smiling.

"You were right." He let go of her hand so he could wrap both arms around her waist and Felicity took his cue, her own encircling his neck. "There were things that happened that I needed to talk about… Things that made me think I'd never be able to relate to normal people again…" He stared searchingly at her. "And you've been… _invaluable_ to me."

Felicity's fingers slid up into his hair, stroking down his neck soothingly. "You did the hard work. I know talking about it wasn't easy. I just want you to be okay. I want you to know that there are people here who love you."

Her face was so earnest, so loving, that he fell even more in love with her. Leaning down, he pressed his forehead to hers, his arms tightening around her waist. "What you said earlier, about good balancing out bad…?"

She nodded.

"I think you do that for me," he told her. "I think the best part of me loves you, and the worst parts are balanced by all the good in you."

She swallowed thickly and stared up into his eyes. "I wish you could see how good you really are."

"Maybe one day I'll see myself how you see me…" He smoothed his hands up over her back. "Just to make sure, you better stick with me."

"Yeah…?" She grinned. "For how long?"

He raised a brow. "How does indefinitely sound?"

"Like it could be very interesting."

"Probably death-defying," he agreed.

"And full of mystery."

"_Tons_ of it. You'll never be bored."

Her lips quirk. "And fun?"

"Mm…" He pressed his lips to hers, lightly nipping at her mouth. "The funnest."

"This is a lot to promise," she warned teasingly.

"The reward is worth it."

Felicity's lips parted to answer, but she was cut off when they bumped into someone, their heads swiveling as he readied to apologize, wondering if it was too early to play the tipsy card. He hadn't had anything to drink, but it would help the careless image a little. Instead, his brows arched high as he found himself faced with Laurel and Tommy, who were parting from their own dance, looking awkward as they stood before them, exchanging a look.

Standing silently, the tense moment seemed to drag until Felicity stepped in. "Sorry… We didn't mean to bump into you. I have two left feet and neither of them are coordinated."

"Oh, uh…" Laurel dragged her eyes off of Oliver and turned toward her, her brow furrowed slightly. "It's fine. No harm, no foul. Um… Do—Do I know you?" she wondered, her brow tipped.

"We met, briefly." Felicity nodded, half-smiling. "I was setting up Oliver's internet router at the time…"

"Oh… _Oh_." Her eyes widened as the memory hit her. "Right. I… remember now. It's Felicia, right?"

"Felicity," she corrected before waving it off. "And you're Laurel?" She turned her eyes to the left. "And Tommy, right? Oliver's said good things."

"Has he?" Tommy replied, his voice and faint smile strained and forcibly polite.

"Of course. He only has praise for you," she assured, nodding. "Well, that and he hasn't been able to find anybody who can manage the club that's anywhere as talented as you were. But that's mostly complaining."

Tommy's brow furrowed a little as he looked at Oliver, like Felicity's words confused him and he wasn't sure if he should take it seriously.

"Which I guess is a moot point since you've taken over Merlyn Global. I don't imagine Verdant can compare to running a multi-billion dollar company…"

"It's a bit of a pay bump," Tommy mused, his lips twitching with humor.

"I'd hope so. Or you'd need to have a serious talk with accounting." She frowned thoughtfully. "Must be a big change from the club scene too, but I'm sure you're doing great." She shrugged. "Me, personally, I'd never be able to handle that kind of job switch."

"It hasn't been easy," Tommy admitted. "There's a lot of loose ends to tie up, a lot of people relying on me."

She nodded understandingly. "That must be a huge responsibility."

"It is." He rubbed a hand down the back of his neck. "I guess you don't know how hard it is when you grow up with the silver spoon firmly implanted in your mouth."

"Well, that could be said for anyone, really," Felicity assured.

At Tommy's furrowed brow, she explained, "Most children grow up thinking that their parents' jobs can't be _that_ important. The majority of us tend to think they're superheroes. They handle work, put dinner on the table, and kiss your boo-boos, no matter how insignificant. So if you think your dad's Superman, it's hard to imagine that anything he does is really _difficult_ for him. Of course, when you have to trade shoes, _that_'s when you're hit with reality." She nodded. "On the bright side, you seem to be handling it well. I know stock in Merlyn Global has gone up in the last six months, so you're definitely doing something right."

He stared at her a long moment and then a funny smile crossed his lips. "Thank you…" He shook his head. "I, uh… I get the stock reports but I guess I never really considered that I might be doing something to contribute to them."

She smiled brightly. "Sure." She squeezed Oliver's shoulder. "I don't want to take all the credit though. Oliver told me about how hard you've been working… He's very proud of your success."

Tommy looked at him then, trying to understand, to pick apart what he knew and what he was being told.

Oliver knew it wouldn't be as easy as Felicity smothering Tommy with kindness and praise, but just the fact that Tommy was looking at him, brief as it may be, with something other than blind hatred was enough for him.

"So, you and Oliver are… friends then?" Laurel probed, looking between them curiously.

Oliver finally found his voice, "Felicity's my girlfriend." He rubbed a hand up and down her arm affectionately. "We've been seeing each other for a while."

"_Oh_…" Laurel nodded, her brow slightly furrowed. "That's… great. I… I'm really happy for you."

He turned a genuine smile on her. "Thank you." He nodded his chin toward Tommy. "I'm happy for you guys, too. I'm glad you could work things out. You fit together."

Tommy searched Oliver's face momentarily before giving him a short nod, as if maybe he accepted that for the truth it was.

"Well, Felicity wanted to talk to my mother before we left, so if you'll excuse us…" He squeezed her waist.

"Right." She grinned at Tommy. "It was really nice to meet you."

He held a hand out for her to shake, which she took. "Nice to meet you too." He still looked a little surprised by her and the things she'd said, but he genuinely seemed to like her.

With that, Oliver nodded goodbye before he and Felicity started walking away.

Turning her head, she said over her shoulder, "Have a great night!"

Laurel smiled faintly and nodded. "You too."

As they moved through the crowd, Oliver bent his head toward her. "That was awkward."

"It could've been worse."

"Really? How's that?"

She smirked up at him. "This time last night, we were having sex on your desk at Verdant… They could've walked in on _that_. So as far as first meetings go, I think this one is pretty good."

He laughed under his breath, a grin forming on his lips. "In that context, yes, you raise a valid point."

Expression sobering, she reached up and tugged on his tie. "Was it weird for you at all…?" she wondered. "Seeing them together…"

His brow furrowed as he shook his head. "I got used to it a long time ago… I wasn't just being polite; they really do fit together."

She smiled faintly. "I wouldn't be upset, you know. If you still had feelings for her. She's _Laurel_… Gorgeous Laurel, who helped you live through the island…" She stared up at him searchingly. "It's not easy to let go of that."

"It wasn't," he agreed. "But it was harder holding on to it." He shook his head. "I love Laurel, I always will, but I'm not in love with her anymore." He watched her face, but her eyes were on his chest, carefully avoiding his. "Is that why you didn't want to come tonight? In case we bumped into her…?"

She shrugged. "Maybe it was part of it…" She licked her lips. "She just represents a really large part of your life… A part that I don't think I'm ever going to fit into, really."

He caught her chin with his finger and tipped her head up so they were eye to eye. "This person, the one who puts on a show for the cameras and strokes the egos of these socialites, this is a persona, it's not who I am… The expensive suits and the fake smile, this whole show, this is just somebody I _have _to be… The guy I am in the foundry, watching TV with you on the couch, that's the real me. And you fit into that life; you fit with me."

Her lips turned up in the corners, tension bleeding away. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. Smoothing a hand down his chest, she added, "I like the suit though. It looks good on you."

His thumb rubbed up her cheek. "I have a few of them."

She raised an eyebrow up at him as she bit her lip. "I think I'll like it better when I take it off you."

His chuckle was warm and promising. "I feel the same way about your dress."

"_Good_."

He leaned down to kiss her, but before his lips could meet hers, he heard his mother calling his name. With a sigh, he rested his forehead against hers and wished this night would end already, so he could take Felicity home. She bit her lip to hide her smile, staring up at him knowingly.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver raised his head, picking up his fake, indulgent smile. "Mother," he greeted.

She smiled between them. "Oliver, I need to steal Felicity away from you. Senator Davis is ranting about the Hood and crime in the Glades and I thought, who better to help me shut him up?" She waved a hand at Felicity. "If you wouldn't mind?"

"No, that'd be great," she agreed, nodding happily.

"Wonderful." Moira stepped aside, encouraging Felicity to join her. Over her shoulder, she said, "Oliver, darling, why don't you see how the Welsh's are doing? I've been trying to get an estimate on what they'll be donating tonight, but they keep avoiding the question." She waved him off before turning her attention to Felicity, whose arm she looped with her own, leaning in to talk to her.

Smiling lightly to himself, he shook his head and watched them go. It looked like Felicity was fitting in better than she expected. He took that as a good sign and turned to do as his mother bid, making his way through the crowd, searching out the solemn faces of Barry and Elizabeth Welsh. If all went well, he could schmooze a few pockets empty and escape with Felicity long before the fundraiser ended.

With hopes of take-out and undressing Felicity with his teeth firmly pushing him forward, he forced a charming grin on his face as he found the dour couple and made the necessary effort. The reward would be well worth it in the end.

[**To be continued**: Part III.]


	3. Part III

**Title**: Love, the kind that's not undone (Love, I know you are the one)  
**Sequel to**: I Can Feel Your Heartbeat (Running Through Me)  
**Category**: Arrow  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama  
**Ship**: Felicity/Oliver  
**Rating**: NC-17-Explicit  
**Word Count**: 10,755  
**Summary**: [Three-Parter] Oliver and Felicity make their public debut as a couple. It's both as hard and as easy as he expected.

**_Love, the kind that's not undone (Love, I know you are the one)  
_**-3/3-

_Love, they say it heals all wounds  
Love, removes the hurt in you  
Love, I know that this is true_

**III**.

Oliver spent over a half hour schmoozing the Welsh's before getting them to agree to a comfortable donation. When he was finally able to break away from them, he quickly found himself in another conversation, far away from where he wanted to be. But he did spot Felicity through the crowd; she was still with his mother and seemed to be charming her, if his mother's smile was anything to go by. He tuned back in to the conversation in front of him, nodding encouragingly at the group of wealthy businessmen.

It was nearly an hour later when he was finally able to make his way over, only to find that Felicity had gone to the ladies room. He sighed, wondering if she might be up to sneaking out early, and turned to find his mom standing in front of him, staring up at him knowingly.

"Felicity is something," she opened, raising a glass of champagne to take a slow sip, watching his expression.

"She is," he agreed.

"Very smart," Moira noted. "Accomplished, beautiful, outspoken…" She stared at him thoughtfully. "And she speaks very highly of you."

His lips twitched. "Obviously I've convinced her there's more to me than there really is."

Shaking her head, Moira smoothed a hand down his jacket. "You can tease all you want, but I know you're a brilliant man, Oliver… Just like your father."

His expression sobered as he let his eyes move away from her for a moment. Talking about his father was still a sore subject. He loved him, regardless of the mistakes he made, but it was hard to forget the sound of the gun going off as he killed himself. It was hard to think of his sacrifice and not feel guilt eat at him.

"I like her," she continued. "In general, of course. But I like her for _you_."

His brow furrowed slightly as he returned his attention to her. "Has she really impressed you that quickly?"

"Honestly?" She smiled. "Yes."

He grinned and let out a short laugh under his breath. "She has that effect."

"But even if it wasn't for that… Oliver, the way you two are together… I haven't seen you so at ease, so happy, since before…" She frowned, her gaze falling. "The island took you away, and for five years I never imagined I'd get you back. And now that I have you, I know you aren't the same man I lost… But I see a spark of him, I see that old smile, when you're with her… And if she can give that to you, if she can make you happy, then that's enough for me."

"I _am _happy," he told her, reminded of how Thea had said something similar. And he was, in some ways. There were a lot of things he wasn't happy about, things he needed to fix, things that tethered him to the island that he couldn't change. But he was content with where his life was going, what he was doing, and who he surrounded himself with. He wished Tommy could accept him, that they could make amends, but he understood that might never happen. He had Diggle and Felicity, his mother and Thea, and it was enough.

"Good," she said, her eyes bright with tears. "That's all I wanted."

A tapping noise caught their attention then and their eyes were drawn to the front, where somebody was at the microphone near the band. "Welcome, everybody, to the annual charity ball for the Starling City Children's Hospital…"

Swiping under her eyes, Moira lifted her chin. "I think that's my cue." She squeezed his arm and smiled up at him. "I already invited Felicity to dinner on Monday. Why don't you two head out early?"

He nodded, relief flooding through him. "Sure." He looked back at the stage briefly. "Good luck."

"I won't need it," she assured with a wink. With that, she walked off toward the stage, her head held high, and he knew she would top last year's donations. She always did. His mother was a master at making the elite give back.

He smiled to himself as he watched her go, the picture of elegance.

A hand at his arm caught his attention then and his head swiveled, canned smile already in place. He was surprised, however, when he found Laurel standing in front of him.

She smiled faintly, her eyes darting away for a moment. "Hi…"

"Hi," he replied, his brow furrowed. He glanced around her, wondering if Tommy was nearby.

"He was called away…" She shrugged. "The trials of dating a businessman."

He nodded. "Understandable."

"Uh… Listen, can we talk?"

"Sure." He turned his head back as he heard his mom's voice come over the speakers. "Maybe somewhere else?"

She cast her eyes around before pointing to the large veranda area, the doors open for guests to get a breather. He followed her over, moving easily through the crowd as it listened intently to his mother's speech, a variation of the same each year. He saw his sister standing with Roy and caught her frown as she spotted Laurel. He shook his head, but didn't have time to explain it to her.

Stepping through the doors onto the veranda, he breathed in deep, appreciating the cool night air.

Laurel gracefully moved to the edge, resting her arms on the smooth metal railing. She stared down on the city for a long moment, the bright lights and dancing on her ivory dress. Like his mother, Laurel was the picture of elegance. He remembered thinking she was perfect; in fact, he'd thought it many times in the past. There was never a hair out of place. She almost never said the wrong thing. She could charm an angry rattle snake with her smile. He'd thought that was what he wanted. On paper and in person, Laurel Lance was perfect.

Just not for Oliver.

She and Tommy worked together. He was sure Laurel had flaws, she'd just never been comfortable showing them to him. With Tommy, she let her guard down. She didn't try so hard. And that was the point, too. He didn't think love should have to be so hard. He didn't think it should always be an uphill battle, a series of mistakes that he could never completely be forgiven for. That didn't mean mistakes would never happen or he'd never have to ask for forgiveness, but there had rarely been traction in his relationship with Laurel. He carried the guilt of what happened with Sara and he always would. Laurel would always remember it and who he was before. She would always see him as the old Oliver, the one that had hurt her. The one he wasn't anymore.

Felicity was flawed. She said the wrong thing all the time, and it was usually an innuendo. She rambled, she was clumsy, and she didn't quite fit into the world of opulence and sophistication that he was subjected to on a daily basis. But he didn't dislike those flaws; in fact, he enjoyed them. Where she rambled, he was often silent; where she was clumsy, he was agile; where she didn't fit in, he was a chameleon of many faces. Similarly, when he closed up and shut down, Felicity could figure out what he couldn't say but was thinking. When he was too in control, she could remind him to loosen up. And when he became jaded over how dark the socialite scene his family was expected to be a part of, she was happy to spend a weekend in their pajamas, watching quality television and helping him forget all about how fake he had to be. Like she filled in the good to his bad, she also balanced out everything else, just as he did for her.

That was why it was easy to look at Laurel then, the picture of beauty, and not feel anything. She was a friend, someone he knew and respected most of his life. But the love he'd once felt for her, the love that kept him going on that island and that pushed him forward each day that he'd returned, it wasn't there anymore. Not to the degree it had been. He would always care for her, help her, root for her as she called for justice in the court room. But he was happy not being the man she went home to each night, the arms she fell into, or the comfort she took after a long day.

Where he wanted to be, where he was happy to be, was with Felicity. Whether it was in the foundry, listening to the click-clack of her fingers on the keyboard while he worked out, or having her in his ear as he ran down the latest name on the list, or lying with her on the couch while they relaxed after a long day. He was happy. It felt right with her. There was no weight of lies or secrets keeping him from enjoying it. She was aware of all the shadows, the monsters in his closet, and she didn't let them scare her off.

"I want to apologize about earlier."

Oliver's gaze landed back on Laurel as she turned to look at him. His brow furrowed. "Apologize? What for?"

"When we bumped into you guys on the dance floor, things felt awkward… I—I reacted weirdly and… I don't know. It's been bothering me." She frowned, shaking her head. "I haven't seen you in… God, it feels like forever. You've just… I mean, you and Tommy, I—I don't know what's going on there. I don't know why you're fighting; he won't tell me. And without that link, I guess… I don't see you around anymore. I talked to Thea and she said you'd just been working a lot…" She licked her lips and looked away. "And seeing you tonight, I… don't know what I was expecting."

Oliver crossed the distance between them slowly. "Laurel…" He stared at her searchingly. "What's this about?"

"Do you remember when Tommy and I ran into you on that date with Helena Bertinelli…? You know, before she was arrested for having a murderous vendetta against her dad…"

He let out a faint snort at her description and nodded slowly.

Sobering, she shook her head. "It was awkward. It was… It was _weird_ to think of you being with someone else. And not… Not just _sleeping _with someone, because I see that enough in the tabloids. But… in a relationship."

"Helena and I were… short-lived… I was in a bad place at the time."

She nodded understandingly. "I just remember it because that was the first time I realized that there was a possibility you would have a future that I wasn't a part of."

He tipped his head, smiling faintly. "You'll always be in my life, Laurel. You, Tommy, even if we can't be the way we were… You've known me practically my whole life."

"I know…" She swallowed tightly. "And it was good, you know? I mean, that was one of those kicks that I needed to realize that I had something real with Tommy and I needed to be a part of it. I needed to give him a real chance."

"He's a good man," he told her sincerely.

"He is," she agreed. "And I love him. I…" She laughed under her breath, smiling. "I never expected it, but being with him is the best decision I ever made."

He smiled, nodding slowly. "I agree."

She stared up at him, searching his face. "You do, don't you?"

"Laurel, I only ever wanted the best for you."

"And you don't think you're it." Her brow furrowed.

"I know I'm not," he agreed seriously.

She was quiet for a moment, her eyes falling, and then she turned, looking out on the city again. "When I saw you with Helena, I realized you _could _move on," she told him, letting her words linger on the air. "And when I saw Felicity… The way you looked at her… I realized you _had_."

He watched as a tear escaped down her cheek, which she brushed away gently with her finger.

"You love her…" She swallowed tightly and turned to look at him. "You're _in love _with her."

He nodded. "Completely."

She smiled, but it was faint and trembling. "I don't want you to think I'm jealous, or that I wish things were different…" She shook her head. "It's just hitting me, and it's so clear… I spent so much time thinking it was you and me… That something might change, shift, that you would do something or say something and suddenly everything between us, all the pain, the lying, the history, it wouldn't matter…" She blinked quickly as her eyes filled with tears. "But I know it's not that… It's not _us_."

He stepped closer, reaching out to brace a hand on her shoulder. "I don't think it was supposed to be…" He stared down at her. "You helped me be a better person…" He smiled lightly. "I don't know what I possibly did for you, but I hope it was something…"

She swallowed tightly. "You gave me Tommy."

He let those words resonate and finally accepted them. Maybe that's what they were meant to do for each other. She was his anchor to this world and she was a guiding light while he was becoming a different man on the island. Perhaps that was their purpose to each other. His 'death' prompted her to see Tommy in a different life, giving them a chance. And she helped him live, made him want to be better, so that when he got back he would be enough for Felicity. Because he hadn't been before. Laurel might have accepted him at his worst, but Felicity never would have. The man she loved had gone through hell on that island and he fought for justice now, putting himself at risk each night. Felicity loved a man and a hero, both of whom were flawed and fragmented at times. She didn't care about the private jets or the trust fund or getting media attention. She wanted to sleep in with him on Sundays, to argue with him until he let her clean up his wounds, to guide him on his missions, to hold his hand when things were rough and cheer him on when things went well.

"This is more emotional than I expected." Sniffling, Laurel wiped at her cheeks. "I just… I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry if I was weird when you introduced us. Felicity seems really nice." She smiled. "Tommy was very proud about what she said, and that you care about the work he's doing at his dad's company."

"He's come a long way. I think he'll manage Merlyn Global better than anyone expected."

She nodded. "He will." She reached up to touch her hair, drawing it back from her still damp cheeks, and then smoothed her hands down her dress. "Well, I should let you get back…" She smiled up at him. "Thank you for letting me get that all out… I think it's been weighing on me for a while."

"It's fine. I'm glad we talked."

She went to walk past him, but paused momentarily. "Oliver…?"

He turned to look at her.

"Maybe it's not my place, but… With Felicity…" She stared up at him. "Be honest with her… Even if it hurts or it's hard or- or you don't think she can handle it. Just… don't shut her out or run away. I know what that feels like and… I don't want you to make that same mistake again."

He paused for a moment, nearly telling her that he would never do that to Felicity. That she understood him better than anyone, and that he shared things with her that he never could with anyone else. But he realized that saying so would only hurt Laurel. It wasn't her fault that he hadn't been the same with her. He had convinced himself it was to keep her safe and, before that, before the island, he had been too cowardly to say what he was really thinking. The man he was today, who he was with Felicity, had come a long way, and he entrusted her with everything.

"I promise," he said instead, the weight of his words apparently enough because she nodded, a faint smile turning up her lips.

"Good."

And with that, Laurel Lance left him; she didn't look back once.

Moving to the railing, Oliver took up her spot staring out over the city, at the flashing lights of cars, billboards, traffic lights, and buildings. Usually, on a night like this, he would already be racing over building tops, searching for trouble, dressed in green leather, with his bow at the ready. Tonight, however, his armour was a designer tuxedo, which left him a lot less room to move around in.

He felt good. Lighter than he expected. While he had let go of Laurel, it was a relief to know that she had also let go of him. She'd confirmed that who she wanted was Tommy and she no longer saw a future between her and Oliver. What could have hurt only a year ago, now felt like the chains of some unseen burden being unshackled from his ankle. Not Laurel, exactly, but the idea of them; it was no longer weighing on him. He was free to move forward.

"Hey."

His head turned, smile widening as he found Felicity walking toward him, plucking her earrings out and wrinkling her nose at the sting before she put them away in her clutch.

"Hey…" He nodded his head. "Come here."

She joined him by the rail and he moved to step behind her, his hands braced on the rail on either side of her body. She leaned back into his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. He rested his chin against her hair and just stood for a while, breathing in the cool air, enjoying the weight of her against him.

"Laurel wanted to talk to me," he finally told her.

"Yeah?"

He was happy to note that she didn't tense up or sound the least bit worried.

"She wanted me to know that she was happy with Tommy and she was letting go of the idea of me and her…" His hands found Felicity's arms and rubbed up and down the length of them, thumbs circling the tops of her shoulders and teasing the inside of her elbows before resting at her wrists. "She said she knew I'd really moved on… And then she told me not to screw it up by making the same mistakes."

Felicity chuckled under her breath. "What'd you say?"

"That she was right, and I was happy she had Tommy…" His hands slid higher and he gently massaged her earlobes for her. She always wore such heavy earrings and he'd seen her wince when she pulled them out. "It felt good."

"Talking to her?"

He nodded. "Getting closure."

"I'm glad."

He kissed the top of her head and sighed against her hair. "Me too."

"Tonight's been kind of intense, huh?" She tipped her head further back to see him. One of his hands slid down her neck and his fingers skimmed over the line of her jaw and under her chin. "Between your mom and sister, Tommy and Laurel on top of it…"

"You wishing we'd just had that quiet dinner instead?"

Her lips turned up and she shook her head. "No."

He raised a curious brow.

"You don't see this as your world and maybe it's not, at least, not to the degree the foundry is… But it _is_ a part of you and it's a part that's filled with really important people in your life… All of this, fundraisers and fancy dresses and shoes that pinch, it's a significant part of your life…" She licked her lips. "And I'm in your life, I want to be in every part of it, so… If it means wearing the pinchy shoes and talking to the ex-girlfriends and being introduced to your mom's friends as her son's 'brilliant girlfriend' then… I'll do it…" She grinned at him. "You're worth that, Oliver. So I might not always fit in or say the right thing, but I'll always be here for you."

His throat tightened and he bent down to kiss her, the angle a little awkward but the sentiment all too important. He traced her delicate cheek with his thumb as he left soft, lingering kisses on her lips, minutes passing as he did little more than hold her close, her chin cradled in one hand while he still rubbed her ear with the other.

It wasn't until she shivered, the night air starting to sink in, that he broke apart from her. "Are you ready to go home?"

Her face lit up hopefully. "We can go?"

He chuckled under his breath. "We've been given the green light to head home early," he assured, nodding.

"I'm so on board for that," she agreed, standing upright and moving to lean against his side as he led her from the balcony. "I hope you know you'll be giving me a foot rub on the ride home…"

His lips twitched as he thought of her complaints about 'pinchy' shoes. "Will I?"

She nodded. "I'm no cheap date, Queen."

"I'll keep that in mind."

As they were crossing toward the doors leading out of the hall, she stopped him with a tug on the lapel of his jacket, wanting to say goodbye to Thea before they made their escape. He followed her over to where his sister and Roy were picking at a plate of food and obviously making fun of everybody's outfits. Felicity, being the chatterbox he loved, couldn't settle for a simple goodbye, so Oliver waited patiently as she and Thea talked a little more, even setting up a lunch date the following week, which Thea promised would be filled with stories of Oliver's childhood, most of which she had learned second-hand from their parents, seeing as she was either not yet born or too young to remember.

While he waited, Oliver listened to the tail end of his mother's speech, his fingers lightly stroking up and down Felicity's back as she relaxed against his side.

"Oliver?"

"Hm?" He turned back to her.

She smiled up at him tenderly. "We can go now."

He realized suddenly that Thea and Roy weren't there anymore, edging their way around the crowd, probably about to make their way out of a side exit. Nodding, he slid his hand into hers and started toward the double doors.

"I texted Digg. He'll be out front," she told him, winding her arm around his waist. Head resting against his shoulder, she wondered, "Did you have fun?"

He considered her question. It would be easy to say that it was just one of many charity fundraisers in his history, but it had stood out in some ways. The conversations he'd had with his mother and Thea had further opened his eyes to how they viewed him since his return. They saw more than he expected. The fake smile he'd been pasting on wasn't fooling them. Still, they realized that being with Felicity had helped him and they were eager to include her if it meant he would meant he would be happy. That was important to him. As much as his life was separated into different facets of himself, trying to put on a believable show for so many, his family meant the world to him. And having their support for his relationship with Felicity was important. He wouldn't have given her up if they hadn't approved, but it was nice to know that they trusted his judgment and, hopefully, saw just how wonderful she was.

"I did," he told her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Me too. Your mom was great; she introduced me to I don't even _know _how many people. I had a mini-debate about gun control. It was great!"

He grinned. "I'm glad you had fun."

"Totally. I shouldn't have been so worried. I mean, yeah, it was a little scary at first. But everybody was really nice and it was kind of amazing to have conversations about global issues with the kind of people that can actually affect them, you know?"

He nodded.

They made their way outside and down the stairs, with Felicity talking a mile a minute, her hands waving around. She hardly noticed the media still hanging around, though their numbers had lessened. Ignoring the flash of cameras, she told him about a businessman with a terrible toupee and how she had to try very hard not to stare at it slipping down his forehead.

The car pulled up to the curb and Diggle circled around to open the door for them.

Felicity moved to the other end of the seat again, but this time she had a reason as she kicked off her heels and rested her feet in his lap as soon as he closed the door behind him. Oliver didn't mind rubbing her feet; it was a small reward in the grand scheme. He briefly admired her blue nail polish, the same shade as her dress, and smiled to himself, shaking his head.

The drive back to her apartment was taken up mostly with Felicity telling Digg about their night.

"So it was a success then? Nothing to worry about?" Digg wondered from the front.

"Mission accomplished. Boyfriend's mother officially impressed." She grinned as she nodded, doing a little fist-pump that made him laugh. "What about you? How'd things go with Carly?"

"Good." He smirked over his shoulder at them. "It was nice to go out to dinner knowing I wouldn't have to come up with an excuse to leave."

"Those are the breaks of the undercover hero," Felicity told him with a mock sigh.

He shook his head, amused. "And what are yours? Rubbing elbows with the rich?"

"Hey, I'll have you know that it wasn't all fun…" She wiggled her toes and point a thumb at Oliver. "Although I got a couple dances out of this one."

"My feet will never be the same," Oliver joked.

"_Lies_," she argued. "I'm a fantastic dancer. I two-step with the best of them." She raised a finger. "I'd also like to point out, that I can dosey-doe, so if either of you ever need a partner for square-dancing, I offer my services… Unless it requires clogs."

Oliver's brow furrowed as he shook his head at the addendum. "Why would it need clogs?"

"I sense a story coming on…" Diggle mused, grinning.

"Okay, no judging…" She wagged her finger between them, her brows hiked. "But it was high school, I was a freshman, and there was this big, themed dance…"

Oliver could already feel himself smiling. He relaxed back into the seat and just watched Felicity's animated expression and her wildly moving hands as she talked, interrupting herself as she laughed. And he felt a sense of peace burrow itself into his chest, as it often had of late. There was a time in his life when the only things that drove him on were guilt and shame, a debt he felt he owed his father for sacrificing himself in order for Oliver to live. There was a time when anger and hatred were what made sure he got up each morning, pushing him to be stronger, faster, to hone himself into a machine instead of a man. And he didn't regret those days, not really. They served their purpose.

There were things he still needed to work out, guilt he needed to assuage, and maybe they wouldn't ever fully be satisfied. Some names would stick with him, some deaths would hang hollowly in his heart. But the life he was carving out for himself was no longer etched with the ghosts of the island, of the person he was. He could be happy. He _was _happy. He looked at Felicity as her head fell back in laughter, her smile brighter than anything he'd ever known, and he felt peace and love and hope. Those were much better reasons for him to wake up each morning.

When they arrived back at her apartment, Oliver pushed the car door open without Diggle's help and reached back in for Felicity's hand.

"Thanks for driving us, Dig," Felicity told him. "And thank Carly for lending you to us."

He grinned after her. "I will. Have a good weekend. And _please_, don't call me 'til Monday."

Oliver ducked down to nod at him, adding a wave before he shut the back door of the car and led Felicity up the stairs to the apartment building. She dug around in her clutch for her keys, handing him her wallet, lipstick, a bottle of perfume, three mints, her earrings, and a toothpick, before she finally found her keys at the bottom.

He shook his head, amused. "How do you even fit all this in there?"

She held the clutch open for him to dump it back in and shrugged. "Voo-doo."

His lips twitched but he made no comment. She handed him the clutch to hold as she worked the key into the lock, frowning when it got stuck, as it always did. As usual, she refused to let him help either, and spent a few minutes jiggling it and slapping his hands away as he tried to take it from her.

"For all that you call me stubborn, you think you'd let me help out with this…" he reminded.

"Oliver, if I need a zipline from the building across the street to the fire escape outside my bedroom window, you will be the first person I call… But I think I can handle one evil door lock that is only stuck because it is trying to make me look bad and knows that I'm wearing really tall heels that hurt like a motherhugger."

He blinked at her. "_Motherhugger?_"

"You know I don't like to swear," she muttered before taking the key from the lock, glaring at it, and then jamming it back in.

"I know I've _heard_ you swear…" He leaned back against the wall, absently holding her clutch to his stomach.

"Okay, well, it doesn't count if it's happening in bed," she argued, her eyes darting around as if she thought somebody might be around, listening.

He grinned to himself. "Last night on the desk you didn't seem to have any trouble—"

The door finally unlocked and she called out, "Ah-ha!" both in victory and to drown him out. Swinging the door open wide, she walked inside and started for the elevator, leaving him to catch up.

Amused at her version of changing the subject, he followed after her, climbing on the elevator as she held the door open for him, her foot tapping impatiently.

"Hungry?"

She waved a hand side to side to say to tell him she could wait a bit.

Resting her shoulders against the elevator wall, she crossed her arms behind her back. "Are you happy we're taking the weekend off?"

"Who wouldn't be happy with a classic Who marathon to look forward to?"

"And nail polish."

He smiled. "I'm all yours, the whole weekend."

She grinned up at him.

The elevator door opened, letting them out on her floor, which she happily stepped onto, making her way down the hall, all the while muttering under her breath something to do with servers and upgrades she forgot to deal with. Oliver watched the sway of her hips appreciatively before he joined her at the door. She slid the key into the lock in the same moment that he bent to press a kiss to the nape of her neck, his breath skittering over her skin, making the loose hair that had fallen from her up-do dance. Her shoulders fell back, as if reaching for his mouth, and he let it skim down the slope of one, where her dress left it bare, while his hand found her hip, squeezed, and then slid it around to rest on her stomach, drawing her back into him, until her back was flush with his front.

He could hear the shift in her breathing, feel the way her body automatically pressed against him, wanting closer. Her hand turned the lock and she pushed the door to her apartment open. They stepped inside slowly, with her dropping her keys in the bowl before she reached up and buried her hand behind his neck.

He closed the door with his foot while she found the light switch. Leaving her clutch on the table beside her key bowl, he turned the lock before putting all of his focus on her. He held her just a few inches in front of him, her hands on his hips, admiring how her dress fit her, leaving part of her back bare. He leaned in to kiss her skin, his hands slowly sliding down her sides, fingers splayed over her thighs, until he finally found the end of her dress. He dragged the fabric up with all the control of a man who enjoyed every second of the building anticipation. She let out a shaky breath as the dress cleared her legs, his fingers rasping over the sides of her underwear, the feel of lace making his jaw clench appreciatively.

Her back arched as he slid the dress up her stomach, the callused pads of his fingers lingering, dragging against her soft skin. She raised her arms and he pulled the bunched fabric free, leaving her standing there in stilettos and her pale, blue, lace underwear. He let the dress fall to the floor, ignored and stepped closer, until she fell back against his chest. Her bra was strapless and his mouth fell to kiss her shoulders while his fingers inched down her sides, teasing her ribs, where she was ticklish. She squirmed a little, laughing under her breath, and tried to focus on the pins she was pulling from her hair, palming them as she let her hair down her hair, piece by piece. It fell softly against his face as he buried a kiss at the crook of her neck.

She kicked off each of her shoes before she turned in his arms to face him. Hands on the lapels of his jacket, she raised an eyebrow. "One of us is overdressed."

His lips curled at the corners. "Couldn't agree more," he replied, before his fingers made quick work of her bra clasp. She glanced down as the fabric became loose but didn't fall.

Palms gliding down to her hips, he held her there as he bent, kissing down her chest, scraping his teeth over her skin. He paused as the top of her right breast and took the fabric between his teeth, peeling it away from her until her bra came loose completely and then he let it drop to the floor. She stared down at him, her fingers feathering through his hair, and watched as his lips wrapped around her pink nipple, his tongue and teeth teasing it. She tugged on his hair encouragingly, her eyes falling to half-mast.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her up off her feet. Her legs wound around his waist and his mouth left her breast, smoothing up her chest as he walked them into her bedroom. She unbuttoned his shirt as they went, drawing it out from his pants and pushing it and his jacket over his shoulders. She let her legs down when he reached the bed and he set her on the edge. Her hands found the button of his pants and lowered the zipper before sliding inside and beneath the band of his boxer-briefs, fingers curling around his shaft, squeezing when he twitched in her grip.

He paused for a moment, arching his hips into her touch, before he shrugged his shirt and jacket off, letting them drop to the floor. And then he was leaning in, finding her lips, his fingers burying in her hair, and pressed her back against the bed. Out of reach now, she let her hands fall to her sides. He shoved his pants down and reached for her underwear, tucking his fingers into the sides before dragging them off. She shimmied to help him, and he slid them down her legs, his palms lingering on her thighs, fingers teasing the back of her knees and down her calves. He tapped the top of one painted, blue toe, and then hooked his hands under her knees, drawing them up so her feet sat on the edge of the bed. He spread her legs open, kneading her thighs as he ducked down, kissing her stomach, and dragging his teeth down her hipbone. Her breathing picked up the closer he got to her slit and he raised his eyes to meets her as he dragged his tongue up her warm, wet pussy.

Her head pressed back against the bed as she lifted her hips toward him. He flicked her clit with his tongue before burying his mouth against her completely, licking and sucking her folds, his teeth lightly scraping. He slid a hand down to join him, his thumb rubbing in widening circles. She was panting, her fingers curled into the blanket, when he sunk two fingers inside her and focused his tongue on her clit. Her thighs quivered on either side of his head, her toes digging into the mattress. He watched her, the flush spreading down her chest, reaching the tops of her breasts. She was biting down on her lip, trying to muffle the noises she was making. Her hair lay out all around her, bright and soft.

For a moment, he was mesmerized. Too long he'd expected his life would be filled with something dark, something so overwhelming that nothing else could be bright. But here he was, with the most amazing woman he'd ever known, and his life was looking better than he ever expected it to be. It wasn't what he'd expected before he'd been stuck on the island, but in some ways, it was better. He could do this, be here, for a lifetime, and never regret it.

Oliver replaced his tongue on her clit with his thumb and pressed wet kisses to her stomach, rasping his whiskered chin against her ribs as he climbed up her, his arm stretched between them, fingers buried inside her. When he finally met her mouth, her nails dragged down his neck and scratched across his shoulders. He took her bottom lip first, soothing away the sting of her teeth with sucking kisses. She sighed against his mouth and he raised his head, their noses brushing, as he found her eyes. He curled his fingers, his thumb rubbing her clit with purpose, and watched as she came apart.

Her knees raised up his sides, hips tipping, and he listened to her breath hitch, a small whimper leaving her. She tightened around his fingers, squeezing and fluttering, warm and wet. She fell back to the bed, panting, and he drew his fingers from her slowly, feeling her legs shake against him. She leaned up to kiss him, sloppy and sweet, before she pushed against him, a sign that she wanted him on his back. He let himself be readjusted and laid beneath her, watching as she got comfortable, sitting low on his stomach.

Felicity liked to take her time; she liked to start kissing his lips and fan out from there, dragging her teeth along the edge of his jaw and down his neck. She rubbed her cheek under the underside of his chin and kissed his each of his collar bones. Her hands were wrapped around the tops of his biceps, her thumb tracing the puckered flesh on his left shoulder, a scar long healed. Her hair skated over his skin as she ducked down, tracing the lines of his Bratva tattoo with her nose and kissing the center, where the scar from impaling himself on his own arrow sat. Her mouth followed the claw-like marks that arched down from it and he _remembered her telling him once that it looked like a shooting star… _

_"What do you wish for, Oliver?" she wondered, her chin balanced on his chest, her hair mussed, and her cheeks flushed. _

_"I've already got it," he murmured. Before she could ask him to clarify, he turned her over and kissed her smiling mouth._

_Later, she asked him if he meant that he was off the island, that he was home, and he distracted her, letting her think that. But it was in that moment that he knew he loved her. She hadn't thought it was a line, assuming he was just being the old Oliver. She didn't even think he meant her. But he had. What he felt with her, letting her see every facet of himself, good and bad, and knowing that she accepted it, had been all he ever wanted. _She_ was what he wanted._

Her nails dragged down the Chinese tattoos on his side while her mouth followed the length of scar tissue from an old knife wound. She pressed five pecking kisses to the torn up flesh that arched around his hip, one for each puncture wound, all the while sliding herself down his body. His stomach was wet from where she'd been sitting on him, and he felt the heat of her slit as she sat on one of his thighs. Her thumbs rubbed down his hip bones, following them until she reached his cock, her fingers ringing around the base. She ducked her head, letting her hair fall against his skin, before she licked the tip, swirling her tongue around the crown. His stomach tightened as he watched her head bob down, taking him deep into her mouth, her tongue sliding down the underside. The wet heat surround him made his eyes roll back in his head and his breath hitch. He could feel her smiling as she slid back up, her hand curling around him, stroking and pumping deliberately slow.

She rocked against his leg, grinding her clit down against him, and he gritted his teeth, wanting nothing more than to turn her over and bury himself in her. But she liked testing his resolve; she liked making him wait. And he liked it too; he liked how soft her hand was as it moved over him, how she'd flick her tongue over the tip of his cock just to hear him hiss, and how she watched him, every movement, every expression, every twitching muscle. It wasn't until he breathed out her name, his hands twitching at his sides, that she climbed up him, bending to his mouth as she straddled his waist. She kissed him in the same moment that he filled her, his hands squeezing her hips as he brought them down. His grip was tight enough to leave bruises, but she liked that. He'd seen her rub her thumbs over the marks and bite her lip, hiding her smile. She liked how he kissed them when she dressed in the morning, tugging her skirt down and out of the way so he could nip at her skin and soothe it with his tongue.

Everything after that was fast; they would do slow later. Right now, he wanted to make her come again. He wanted to watch her fall apart. She let him set the pace and matched it, meeting every thrust of his hips, her hands braced on his chest, nails digging into his skin, breasts bouncing. She tipped her head back and enjoyed it, not bothering to muffle herself now. Broken sentences and his name were all she managed to say, breathless and caught up. Sweat dotted her skin; he turned her over just so he could taste it, licking between her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth while he plucked the other between his fingers. He dug his teeth in and felt her tighten around him, rippling around his cock. She cried out and squeezed his shoulder, her legs wrapping tight around his waist, so he slid a hand down and circled her clit, getting progressively faster until she climaxed.

He chuckled when she hoarsely muttered, "Fuck." There was no censoring herself here.

When she caught her breath, he leaned back, readjusting them so she was laid out on her stomach before he took her hips, drawing them up until she was on her knees. She braced herself on her forearms, her forehead pressed down to the bed, and let out a long moan as he sunk inside her. He kissed up her back, slow and lingering, while his hands teased the inside of her thighs and spread them further apart. Her thighs were smooth against his, soft where his were toned with muscle. Her hair was clinging to her neck and he nuzzled it out of the way as he kissed over her shoulder while his hands smoothed over her stomach, rubbing them in circles as he drew out of her slowly, only to sink back in, hard and fast.

Felicity had only one scar that stood out for him. He was sure there were others; scraped knees and random little accidents that people get into over their life. Not like his; not knife wounds and bullet holes. But there was one on her back that curled under her left shoulder blade. It wasn't deep, the flesh didn't pucker around it like it often did his. And if he didn't know where it was, he might even have trouble finding it. He had her body mapped out in his head though; every curve, every dip, every freckle.

This particular scar was from an arrowhead, one of his. Six months ago, Helena had blown back into his life without warning. She was angry, vengeful, and she couldn't get at her dad; so she came after him, in the best way she knew how. Attacking those he cared about. She'd found Felicity in the foundry, snuck up on her while she was deep in her work. Oliver had been upstairs in the club at the time, but he'd come down to check on her. Sometimes she lost herself in the virtual world and she forgot things like keeping hydrated.

_Oliver walked down the stairs, a bottle of water in one hand as he wondered how long he had before Dig showed up to interrupt them. He was fairly sure Diggle knew that something was going on between them, but he didn't ask outright. He checked his watch and doubted they had enough time to get in anything that wouldn't leave them both wanting. Those thoughts fled when he got halfway down the stairs and, instead of finding Felicity buried face first in her computers, he found Helena holding Felicity in a headlock so tight that her face was red from the pressure. In her hand was one of his arrows, which she had pressed up against Felicity's back, digging it into her skin hard enough that he could see the blood had spread down Felicity's blouse, soaking it through. His heart pounded thickly in his chest, but he kept his face neutral._

_"How poetic would it be?" Helena asked, staring up at him. "You'd have matching scars if I shoved it all the way through." _

_His eyes went dark around the edges as he considered what she was saying. He had taken a calculated risk when he'd stuck that arrow through himself to kill Malcolm. He knew where to push, what to avoid, exactly where to place it so it wouldn't be deadly to him but would finally put Malcolm down. Helena wouldn't care if she punctured something, if she hit an artery, if she angled the arrow too low and sent it right through Felicity's heart. She would think Oliver deserved it, that maybe even Felicity did for helping him stop her from getting at her father. _

_He felt fear then, like he hadn't in a long time. Fear that Helena would know how much he cared, that she would kill Felicity just to spite him, that he would lose her, and it would all be his fault. _

_The cock of a gun caught everyone's attention and Helena's dark smirk slid away as her eyes cut to the side and found Diggle standing there, his gun raised. "I promise you… My trigger finger's faster." His voice was sharp, deep, leaving no doubt that he would put Helena down without hesitation._

_She considered her options for a moment before finally admitting defeat, but she wasn't serving herself up to them on a platter. She used Felicity as a shield to escape, getting to the side door before she shoved Felicity forward and made a run for it. _

_Rubbing her neck as she fell to her knees, Felicity looked up at them apologetically. "Sorry… I thought it was Oliver when I heard the door. She caught me by surprise."_

_Dig turned to look at him; the tension and blame rolling off of him were all too familiar. Even if Felicity was okay, she might not have been, and it would be his fault for ever getting involved with Helena. _

_"It's not your fault… We obviously just need to work on your awareness skills some more," Dig told her, holding a hand out to help her up._

_"Ugh, more training," she muttered, frowning._

_He half-smiled at her and led her over to the medical supplies to clean her up, listening to her ramble all the while._

_Oliver remained silent, only bending to pick up the discarded arrow, still dripping with her blood. He let it drip down and coat his hands, where he felt it fit._

_Felicity had been shaken up, but didn't let the situation deter her any. She convinced them she was fine enough to finish up her work, but neither he nor Diggle had left the foundry, sticking close to her just in case. _

_Later, Oliver took her back to her apartment, helping her undress when her shoulder protested, sore from the wound. She was exhausted and hadn't asked why he was staying when they obviously wouldn't be sleeping together. She let him climb into bed and just hold her as she drifted to sleep, waiting for the nightmares to wake her up, ready to soothe them away. And he had, three times just that night, and every night after for weeks. _

So he remembered that scar and what it meant. How close she came, how much his life affected hers, how she was scarred but still soft, still sweet.

He pressed his lips to that scar and she lifted herself up to meet his kiss, resting on her elbows, her head falling back. He planted his hands on the bed, on either side of her, their arms brushing, and he kissed up her neck, nuzzling her cheek and her ear. She reached an arm up and around his neck, gripping his hair. She twisted her hips, rotating them as she squeezed around his cock, smiling with satisfaction as he grunted against her neck. He closed his eyes and focused on how it felt, how warm and tight she was around him, and he let go. He bit down on her shoulder as he came, buried deep inside her, panting hard against her skin as he felt her follow after him. He pressed his forehead down against her back, feeling their skin stick together, and felt his arms shake with the effort of holding him up.

She dropped down to the bed on her stomach, humming as he slid out of her, and he laid down on his back beside her. Her chin sat atop her stacked hands as she watched him try to catch his breath, his chest heaving. He stared back at her, feeling a tightness in his chest at the tenderness in her eyes. He rolled toward her and kissed the corner of her upturned lips, pressing his forehead to her temple as his fingers tangled in her hair. They stayed like that for a few minutes, his hand eventually falling to lightly stroke up and down her back.

And then her stomach grumbled, reminding him that he promised her take-out.

"Shower first," she told him, pushing up off the bed, pausing briefly when her legs were still shaky.

She rolled her eyes when he grinned at her smugly and walked off to the bathroom with as much grace as she could muster. Chuckling under his breath, he followed her.

Felicity was a shower-singer, and she didn't care if he was in there with her, he was still regaled with an off-key version of the song she happened to have stuck in her head. So while he was soaping up her back and she was washing her hair, he was just glad she couldn't see him mouthing along with her.

_Standing where I am now, standing up at all  
I was used to feeling like I was never gonna see myself at the finish line  
Hanging on to parts of me,  
Hanging on at all…  
I was used to seeing no future in my sight line_

She hopped on spot, turning around so she could dip her head back in the water, and smiled up at him as he reached behind her to rinse her hair for her. She took up scrubbing his chest for him and never paused in her singing.

_Sometimes it feels like they wanna remind me  
Send all those villains after me!_

She poked at his chest before starting to dance again, moving her shoulders side to side. Not the least bit deterred when he had to catch her before she slipped in the soapy water that dripped off of them.

_I'm not their hero  
But that doesn't mean that I wasn't brave…  
I never walked the party line  
Doesn't mean that I was never afraid…  
I'm not your hero  
But that doesn't mean we're not one and the same_

She smiled up at him brightly, soaking wet, her skin dotted with bubbles, and he thought about that happiness that his mom and sister had been so persistent about earlier. He thought about how they said he looked at Felicity a certain way, how he smiled more genuinely, and how Laurel knew immediately that he had moved on completely. And he knew that one day, he was going to take that step he never thought he'd be ready for. One day, he was going to marry her, and it would be the best decision he ever made.

He cupped her face in his hands and he kissed her, his arms wrapping around her wet body and pulling her flush with him. While he didn't take it any further, she was distracted enough not to finish her song. She didn't wonder what brought on the very sudden, very intense kiss, simply accepting it as something he did. Instead, she focused on getting them clean and out of the shower.

A while later, he stood in the kitchen, still wearing his towel as he called her favorite Chinese place, who knew them so well they could anticipate their order on her phone number alone. It was probably a weird thing to like, but he found it only improved his already good mood. Dropping the phone back on the cradle, he turned his attention to seeing what they had to drink. Whether or not her fridge would be stocked was a day to day struggle as Felicity spent the majority of her time between Queen Consolidated and the foundry, but he knew there'd be a bottle of wine and two-day old pizza inside, at least.

Making his way to her bedroom, he grabbed his discarded clothes from the floor to toss in the laundry basket, despite knowing he'd have to send them out for dry cleaning in the morning. Walking to her dresser, he dug around for his pajama pants in the drawers she'd allotted him. While he was dressing, he wasn't surprised to see her through the cracked bathroom door as she rubbed something into her hair to keep it from frizzing before she put it in a French braid. Her lips were moving as she sang to herself and he knew she was finishing out the song he'd cut off.

_Feeling like I am now lighting up the hall  
I was used to standing in the shadow of a damaged heart  
Learning all I know now, losing all I did  
I never used to feel like I'd be standing so far ahead_

Dressed in his low-slung pajama pants, he made his way back out to the living room, his gaze bouncing around absently.

Felicity's apartment was all bright colors, from the cheerful blue walls to the cherry red furniture, her sunny yellow bookshelf, and burnt orange desk. She had a throw rug under her couch and coffee table that was made of rectangles of overlapping colors. Not so much a plant person, she instead dressed her walls with her love of TV and books, from a blue and white police box to a framed poster of the original Harry Potter book covers. She had action figures that lined shelves and different pieces of tech were laying all over, from the iPod and laptop on her couch to the tablet and PC on her desk. A shelving unit of alphabetized movies and TV series took up one whole wall, the scale of which could take him a whole year to watch. It was very much her, and the sense of comfort he got from being in her zone never ceased to amaze him.

He dropped down into the corner of the couch, running a hand over his damp hair as he rested his feet on the coffee table, next to a stack of magazines, the latest Wired on top. He felt good, his muscles loose, and though he'd usually be happy to crawl into bed and sleep, the shower had helped wake him up.

When Felicity joined him, she had her glasses on, slipping down her nose as usual, and the sight was welcomed. She was wearing one of his t-shirts, long enough that it reached her mid-thigh, and he admired how cute she looked. She crawled over him to the couch and pressed against his side, her head on his shoulder, her wet hair a little cold on his bare skin. "ETA on dinner?"

"Half hour."

"Awesome."

He patted her hip as he stared down at her. "Thank you, for coming out tonight."

She looked up at him, half-smiling. "I'm glad I did."

"Me too."

She absently traced an old burn mark on his chest as she bit her lip. "It's not always going to be this easy, you know… One night you're going to have to duck out early and your mom will want to commiserate that you always do that, but I'll have to make an excuse to go too…"

"Well, on the bright side, when that happens, they'll probably just think we're ditching our responsibilities to be together…" he mused.

"And that'll be okay in the beginning, but eventually she's going to start to doubt that. And I don't know if you've noticed, but Thea is a little more suspicious of you than she lets on…" She hiked her brows. "She's not dumb. She knows there's something going on, that you're not telling her, and I think we both know that I'm not very good at being interrogated… I'd like to think if I was ever kidnapped by the bad guys— and I use that term broadly because let's face it there's a lot of them— I wouldn't crack under the pressure. But even just having Detective Lance stare me down was intimidating… Admittedly, he has some pretty impressive interrogation face that is only aided by his weirdly disapproving eyebrows."

Oliver stifled a smile and shook his head. "I have every faith that if you were ever really being interrogated, you wouldn't say anything…"

She tipped her head up, chin resting on him. "That's a lot of faith to have in someone who has an intense rambling problem."

"Maybe there's a group you could join." His eyes flashed teasingly. "RA, Rambler's Anonymous."

Scoffing, she pinched his arm. "Shut up."

He grinned. "It'd be a very loud meeting, everyone talking over everyone. You'd be drowned out. You could spill my secret identity and nobody would even hear you."

Laughing, she buried her face against him.

Smiling down at her, he stroked one of the curls that had come loose from her braid. "You know I trust you, right?"

Looking up at him, her expression soft, she nodded. "I must have one of those faces."

He chuckled deep into his chest. "Touché."

"You deserved that."

"Mmhmm," he agreed, ducking his head down to catch her lips.

He leaned her back on the couch and moved on top of her, his fingers threading in her hair. For a long while, he was lost in her. Her hips cradling his, legs around his waist, her fingers moving through his hair and stroking down his neck, her lips meeting his, kiss for slanting kiss. He slid her glasses up and off her, dropping them above her head to the couch cushion so they wouldn't get in the way. Deep, heady kisses turned into slow, lingering ones, until finally he was resting his cheek on her shoulder, meeting her pretty blue eyes, nothing but their breaths meeting in the small space between their lips.

He rubbed his thumb over her temple and down over the arch of her eyebrow. "I love you," he murmured, feeling the weight of the words on his heart, heavy in the best of ways.

Her lips curled up at the corners. "I love you, too."

He met her mouth again for another warm kiss, but the buzz of the intercom interrupted, telling him their food was there. He sighed against her lips, but pushed himself up. As he climbed off the couch, she reached back for her glasses and slid them into place, tracking his progress over to the phone. Rolling her way off the couch, she moved over to her entertainment wall. "You wanna start our marathon now or you wanna watch a movie instead?"

Grabbing his wallet from her bedroom, he made his way over to her door to meet the delivery guy. "Movie," he said, and before she could even wave it at him, "Not_ any_ form of Robin Hood."

She pouted. "You always ruin my fun."

He chuckled lightly to himself and pulled the door open, counting to make sure he had enough as well as a large tip. The usual delivery guy greeted him with a wave and handed over the bags, taking the cash without counting it and tucking it in his back pocket.

Oliver locked up and made his way into the kitchen to grab two glasses and the bottle of wine out of the fridge. When he sat back down on the couch, she already had a movie popped in the player and took her seat next to him while he unloaded the take-out boxes.

When _The Emperor's New Groove_ started to play, he sighed at her.

"I'm not saying you're Kuzco, or that Dig is Pacha, but I see some similarities," she told him, grinning as she tucked her chopsticks into the chow-mein.

Stifling a smile, he shook his head, and picked up the fried rice before leaning back into the couch.

"Hey…?" she said, as the movie started.

He looked over, an eyebrow raised.

"We started this night wearing insanely expensive clothes and were photographed by paparazzi. Most nights, around this time you're wearing a green hood and eye paint and fighting crime. Tonight we're watching an animated movie about a prince who gets turned into a llama…" Her smile widened. "Just let that sink in."

He laughed and looked back at the screen. Oliver's life was by no means normal. But in a weird sort of way, it was absolutely perfect.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he told her.

And he meant it.

[**End**.]

* * *

**Author's Note**: _And there we have it. The end. Except maybe I'm thinking of writing a part where he proposes. We'll see. Thoughts? _

_I hope you liked this. I enjoyed writing it. For a story that was only meant to be a short add-on to my first Olicity fic, this sure ballooned. But it was worth it. I had a great time writing each character and delving into their personalities. Please leave a review; they're very appreciated. And I would be forever beholden to you all if you helped me get to 100 reviews for this. If you don't mind. _

_Thank you for reading!_

**- Lee | Fina**


End file.
